I'm so glad you found your angel. 🙏🏼 We adopted a rescue puppy a few months ago and named her Story (she's also my shadow!). Had quite a scare a few weeks back when she was bitten by a venomous snake, but happily she lived to tell her story. Sending hugs to you and Rossi 💖
Jun 5, 2022·edited Jun 5, 2022Liked by Suleika Jaouad
Thank you Natalie and Suleika for this poignant prompt. I actually went to bed last night thinking "I'm so LONELY" and then I woke up to 'The Lonely Stories'. I can't wait to read the book.
The confident, rebellious, 18-year-old girl, arrives at an experimental college in 1974 armed with her adoration of Henry David Thoreau, Buckminster Fuller, and Thelonious Monk, and her lifelong dream to be a wildlife veterinarian. But she quickly discovers that the courses required for vet school are too hard. "I'm not smart enough" she realizes, and she moves on to something else. "No, no, no! That's not it at all!" I tell her. "You've just never had the experience of overcoming big obstacles. You don't know how. You don't even know that such a concept exists. You can do it. Actually you need to learn to do it because you will face obstacles and challenges like this with every single thing you want to do in life." But she doesn't understand, doesn't know how to try, so she pivots to another dream. Many more doors swing open for her, more amazing adventures are handed to her. Again and again she arrives at the very cusp of her dreams, again and again she stands in front of the mountain...and turns away.
She used to carry a whole lot of regrets, but now those regrets have turned into insight and wisdom, and even gratitude for a lifetime as a professional dabbler.
I am writing from the other side of the Atlantic, the southwest corner of Europe. I wonder what has drawn me to you, to this page, to this community. I have not experienced any form of cancer or any serious physical illness, but I feel such affinity and resonance with your words. Thank you for sharing your highs and lows, the light and the shadow. I am sending you so much love.
On the topic of the prompt, I wanted to share a practice that I started this week. Around a month ago, I have resumed very slowly and patiently my lost habit of running (with small intervals of 2 minutes in the beginning interspersed by brisk walks). By now, I am running 15 minutes in a row, plus interval, and another 5 minutes. I feel quite victorious with this achievement! (Bear with, I am fan of context. 😊) This week, inspired by the Children’s Day, I have started to bring along my 6/7-year-old self to run and walk a little bit. I imagine she is right there, by my side, my Elsinha (my name is Elsa and the “inha” is a diminutive), smiling at me, happy and innocent. We exchange glances, questions and answers, and silence. It am still feeling my way through these moments, what to do, not do, what to ask, grabbing the hand firmly or letting it go.
Wishing you (and all) a graceful, beautiful Sunday!
I meet my 7 year old self her first day at Brickett School in Lynn, Mass. She’s so excited and feeling full of confidence in her new pink pinafore dress, white lace socks and black patent leather Mary Jane shoes. She loves her long shiny brown hair in pigtails with pink bows in each braid to match her dress. As we sit on the front steps Of Brickett Elementary School on a gorgeous spring day I tell her “ Sherri don’t ever give away your light to anyone. You will always bring light and joy with you wherever you go. Your uniqueness has brought you much pain but your courage for your freedom to be authentic has never wavered. I love you forever” as we hold one another in a warm embrace.
So beautiful. I have thought the very same thing about a young girl with pigtails, in a pinafore and Mary Janes, standing in front of her house...in Malden!
Good Morning Susu and all the amazing members of this community,
I can so relate to comparing myself to past versions of myself, especially when it comes to recovery from such extreme physical illnesses. I am continually amazed by my body’s resilience and yet she isn’t bouncing back the way she used to so when I go to do things my mind thinks I have the energy for only to collapse in exhaustion (case in point - I am on vacation right now and a route I used to run “back in the day” winds me within the first block!) in the front seat of the car needing mum to help me administer pain meds in a way that I prefer privacy for but must throw modesty to the wind in moments of crisis (I don’t know about you but I have no issues baring any part of my body to the world anymore after how medicalized it has become to me… even referring to her as “it” shows how detached I am from her. Working on reclaiming a sense of embodiment…) And making peace with this new older self has been hard but what helps is tapping into the wisdom these tired cells now carry. Yes they are tired and begging for this to be the last time we have to undergo anymore treatments but they also posses a wisdom my younger self never had and have shed the arrogance and immortality complex of my youth. I picture myself sitting next to my younger, more pigheaded self and bringing her into this moment with me and the peace it holds, holding her to my heart in a deep embrace and telling her its ok to slow down now and just BE with whatever is right now. And right now the moments are becoming increasingly more beautiful and suffused with meaning and hope.
As usual, your weekly post comes at just the right time.
I am sending you and this community so much love and gratitude. I love my Sunday mornings 📿 🧘♀️ 🙏
Some good news to share - I am returning to my work at a used bookstore next week and starting yoga therapy as a way of healing my body mind and soul. I am SO excited and know this will provide inspiration for my 100 day writing project!
May I first say a thank you to Suleika, Natalie and all the participants in these journals. You have touched me in so many ways. This is my first response to a prompt as a participant. As a silent observer, there is so much pain. Being alone, I have always been alone, or felt alone, are they separate states or one in the same? There I am playing, talking to myself, no talking to Bobo. I could trust Bobo, he was always there with me, ready to play, or just listen. He was such a good friend, yes, I think my feelings for him were probably the closest to love and trust that I have ever experienced.
Running free outside, there were the chickens pecking the bare ground, the old windmill clanking and Bobo. Mostly, the only other people around me were Momma and Daddy. Bobo, was with me at night, he tried to keep me from harm, but no matter what, he was there, holding me. Then one day, Mamma said I could no longer play with Bobo, her anger made me cringe. I could not let Bobo go, he was always there for me, there in my aloneness. Then, Mama said we were going to bury Bobo. I knew what death was, dead birds, dead chickens, I knew what it meant when someone was buried. She made me do it, by myself. As she watched, I went through the motions, my little five year old self digging a hole in the soft earth, I had no blanket, I had no box, so silently, I told Bobo, I must let him go. I can no long play, no longer talk to him when I am scared. As I closed the grave, I set the stage for a life of duality. Seventy-nine years later, to my little self... and Bobo, I want you to know how strong you were, I, we, have survived, I still operate in two worlds, the everyday world of living and in my inner world where I am a painter, sculptress and creator. I still feel alone even in the company of others.
Thank you! This writing, once I started, it just poured out. I think the writing through an acknowledgement has a healing property, an avenue to understand today through years past.
I see that cute photo of Fran and immediately think, "German Shepherd mix. My God, why would anyone in NYC have a herding dog?" But that's my picky, linear, Dog 4H Mom thinking. People do all sorts of things successfully.
I'll skip today's prompt. My eyes are on the horizon, and my time on this Earth is limited. Instead I'll buy some more bird food (so far no bird flu in our area) - But I will take a minute to laugh at some of my life's previous purchases. What was I thinking? What ever it was, it made sense at the time!
And I'll hope Suleika won't give up on the Doggie Companion idea. I hope she can find a Havanese! Or some body else bright, cheerful and companionable https://www.akc.org/dog-breeds/havanese/
Jun 5, 2022·edited Jun 5, 2022Liked by Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad
Love the idea of being friends with my past self instead of the constant comparison. Will use this idea today, Day 66 of your Isolation Journals 100-day project, which brings nothing but joy and love to this community❤️
Dear Mary Lou even though you were told for years that you were an accident and you were not supposed to be born and that you were not wanted you finally learned at 55 years old that yes you were planned and you were not an accident and that there was a special plan for your life and you are supposed to be here on this planet so now during these last 25 years you do not have to keep seeking for someone to love you for now you know that God loves you and that's very comforting, calming and peaceful
I had an experience set in motion by a younger self just before I opened this prompt! I was struggling to get today’s poem started (yes, still doing the 100-day project), so I opened a message on Instagram. Some random guy sent me this message: “Really, you are so beautiful!” 😂😂😂These messages make me laugh, anyway (please!), but I immediately thought about how old my profile picture is—at least 10 years! He’s talking to an earlier version of me. One that doesn’t have a missing front tooth b/c my implant just had to be removed! Trust me, he wouldn’t send that message to me today! While my bone graft heals, I find myself hiding inside my house. And, this makes me realize that I have to update my self-definition! Even though I consider myself a spiritual person, I’ve been WAY too reliant on my physical appearance. For my entire adult life, really. It makes me sad how entrapped I’ve been by this patriarchal view of women.
I've been gathering up the bits of myself from years ago, and sometimes as recently as days ago, reminding each version that they are loved and did the best they could with the support (or lack of support) they had. This was such a sweet, cherished essay, Natalie. Thank you. 💜
It’s a simple yet lofty setting. A girl up a tree. At first at eight and ten desperately hiding out. Finding the space to be alone. Free from harm. Then, over time climbing higher. Staying longer. Looking inward and also scanning her surroundings. The other houses. The town. The distant countryside. Perspective. What began as escape become the stuff of dreams and introspection. The hurt become grist for the mill of creativity and hope.
The scene takes place in such a beloved place to me, Frankfurt Germany, where I spent my three coming-of-age years (12 turning 13 till 15 turning 16-1974-1977), on the curb in front of my house for those three years, a summer day, with the roses blooming that someone had planted before us and my mother and father lovingly tended. I sit next to my 14-year self-she with her long, straight brown hair, parted in the middle, bell bottoms and bare feet, waiting to see her muse and first love of her life (unrequited though it was) who lived across the street, and me, now at age 60, with hair just as long, only now silver with the essence of the brown from long ago in strands, but with the same star dust in my eyes, barefoot and in jeans, lines from laughing and contemplating life that were not there at 14. "Hello Sweet One" I say to me and ask if I can sit beside "her". "Oh, yes! please come beside me and tell me what to do! I want so much to live this big life and feel so trapped by my fears, so constricted by the expectations of my family to stay 'ladylike' and yet so comforted in odd way in this cocoon of 'what is'. "You have a gift" I say to my young self," that feels like a curse to you right now. And that is that your empathy and desire for peace is sublimating your ability to form your own needs and wants. Be, as you are, open to the teaching of your Muse-he is gentle, kind and generous with his books, albums and time...but know that he is a traveler in your life, and soon, he will be but a memory. It will hurt in places so deep and lonely, that you will go looking for this in others...you will not find it, for it is already inside you. Your question, is 'What do I need and want to help me cultivate my gifts?' Your big sister lives large in you as the voice of 'the critic' and the sooner you can get out from under that voice, the sooner you will see that you have always been worthy, always been unique, always been fabulous. But whatever you choose, you are loved by me, your core self and I will always be with you. We will find our way together. Now, I must go, back to 2022". "Don't go!" pleads younger me, "I have so many question!" I know, says the me with the silver locks, keep asking, keep questing, sprinkle compassion on yourself when you go astray and know that you will come back to 'you'. And just then, her muse, lanky, tall, dark, handsome, walks out his front door with that smile that melts her every time. Her 60-year old self selfishly wishes to stay, to sit by his side once again, but knows it is not her time to do so and drifts off, as she is pulled into his aura when he sits beside her. A gentleness, a loving, compassionate understanding sweeps over my 60-year-old self, for the 14-year-old me and is so thankful, so deeply grateful for the brief but life enhancing return to that curb, that summer of 1975, that the smell of roses always induces.
I wish there was a reply button that was something even greater than a heart. "I want so much to live this big life and feel so trapped by my fears.... 'You have a gift, I say to my young self,' that feels like a curse to you right now. And that is that your empathy and desire for peace is sublimating your ability to form your own needs and wants." I actually remember feeling exactly this way, pretty much my whole life. Thank you so much for this beautiful narrative.
Judi, this means soooo much to me! Thank you for reading and connecting with me. You know, (well you don't, because I haven't said this yet-ha/ha) that re-reading what I had wrote, but reading it in your reply, was super powerful for me! It was like you were saying it to me! Thank you for that. Oh these Isolation Journals are such a portal to self discovery and the sharing of "story" is like we are all sitting around an ancient fire, doing as our ancestors did...storytelling...isn't it magical?
Ha! I'm so happy to know this. I honestly went to bed last night bemoaning "I feel so LONELY" and woke up to "The Lonely Stories" by Natalie. This group...it's just something else.
I so second Mae’s emotion. I was gobsmacked by the pronouncement, so to speak, I read upon landing on the comments page. Thank you Mae, thank you Suleika.
What about taking a middle path in regards to a furry Friend…?
A therapy dog 🐶 who is already trained…?
After my only child (Sam) was killed in a violent crime:
After being like Forest Gump, walking an endless road:
I found Rossi, my Angel pup.
He is my shadow…
My Angel.
Rossi and I send heaps of love to you.
Truly…🙏🏻♥️🦋
I'm so glad you found your angel. 🙏🏼 We adopted a rescue puppy a few months ago and named her Story (she's also my shadow!). Had quite a scare a few weeks back when she was bitten by a venomous snake, but happily she lived to tell her story. Sending hugs to you and Rossi 💖
Thank you Natalie and Suleika for this poignant prompt. I actually went to bed last night thinking "I'm so LONELY" and then I woke up to 'The Lonely Stories'. I can't wait to read the book.
The confident, rebellious, 18-year-old girl, arrives at an experimental college in 1974 armed with her adoration of Henry David Thoreau, Buckminster Fuller, and Thelonious Monk, and her lifelong dream to be a wildlife veterinarian. But she quickly discovers that the courses required for vet school are too hard. "I'm not smart enough" she realizes, and she moves on to something else. "No, no, no! That's not it at all!" I tell her. "You've just never had the experience of overcoming big obstacles. You don't know how. You don't even know that such a concept exists. You can do it. Actually you need to learn to do it because you will face obstacles and challenges like this with every single thing you want to do in life." But she doesn't understand, doesn't know how to try, so she pivots to another dream. Many more doors swing open for her, more amazing adventures are handed to her. Again and again she arrives at the very cusp of her dreams, again and again she stands in front of the mountain...and turns away.
She used to carry a whole lot of regrets, but now those regrets have turned into insight and wisdom, and even gratitude for a lifetime as a professional dabbler.
This is lovely. Thank you, Judi ❤️
This. Sweet.
Dear Suleika,
I am writing from the other side of the Atlantic, the southwest corner of Europe. I wonder what has drawn me to you, to this page, to this community. I have not experienced any form of cancer or any serious physical illness, but I feel such affinity and resonance with your words. Thank you for sharing your highs and lows, the light and the shadow. I am sending you so much love.
On the topic of the prompt, I wanted to share a practice that I started this week. Around a month ago, I have resumed very slowly and patiently my lost habit of running (with small intervals of 2 minutes in the beginning interspersed by brisk walks). By now, I am running 15 minutes in a row, plus interval, and another 5 minutes. I feel quite victorious with this achievement! (Bear with, I am fan of context. 😊) This week, inspired by the Children’s Day, I have started to bring along my 6/7-year-old self to run and walk a little bit. I imagine she is right there, by my side, my Elsinha (my name is Elsa and the “inha” is a diminutive), smiling at me, happy and innocent. We exchange glances, questions and answers, and silence. It am still feeling my way through these moments, what to do, not do, what to ask, grabbing the hand firmly or letting it go.
Wishing you (and all) a graceful, beautiful Sunday!
I meet my 7 year old self her first day at Brickett School in Lynn, Mass. She’s so excited and feeling full of confidence in her new pink pinafore dress, white lace socks and black patent leather Mary Jane shoes. She loves her long shiny brown hair in pigtails with pink bows in each braid to match her dress. As we sit on the front steps Of Brickett Elementary School on a gorgeous spring day I tell her “ Sherri don’t ever give away your light to anyone. You will always bring light and joy with you wherever you go. Your uniqueness has brought you much pain but your courage for your freedom to be authentic has never wavered. I love you forever” as we hold one another in a warm embrace.
So beautiful. I have thought the very same thing about a young girl with pigtails, in a pinafore and Mary Janes, standing in front of her house...in Malden!
Oh Judy how sweet ❤️
love this.
Good Morning Susu and all the amazing members of this community,
I can so relate to comparing myself to past versions of myself, especially when it comes to recovery from such extreme physical illnesses. I am continually amazed by my body’s resilience and yet she isn’t bouncing back the way she used to so when I go to do things my mind thinks I have the energy for only to collapse in exhaustion (case in point - I am on vacation right now and a route I used to run “back in the day” winds me within the first block!) in the front seat of the car needing mum to help me administer pain meds in a way that I prefer privacy for but must throw modesty to the wind in moments of crisis (I don’t know about you but I have no issues baring any part of my body to the world anymore after how medicalized it has become to me… even referring to her as “it” shows how detached I am from her. Working on reclaiming a sense of embodiment…) And making peace with this new older self has been hard but what helps is tapping into the wisdom these tired cells now carry. Yes they are tired and begging for this to be the last time we have to undergo anymore treatments but they also posses a wisdom my younger self never had and have shed the arrogance and immortality complex of my youth. I picture myself sitting next to my younger, more pigheaded self and bringing her into this moment with me and the peace it holds, holding her to my heart in a deep embrace and telling her its ok to slow down now and just BE with whatever is right now. And right now the moments are becoming increasingly more beautiful and suffused with meaning and hope.
As usual, your weekly post comes at just the right time.
I am sending you and this community so much love and gratitude. I love my Sunday mornings 📿 🧘♀️ 🙏
Some good news to share - I am returning to my work at a used bookstore next week and starting yoga therapy as a way of healing my body mind and soul. I am SO excited and know this will provide inspiration for my 100 day writing project!
May I first say a thank you to Suleika, Natalie and all the participants in these journals. You have touched me in so many ways. This is my first response to a prompt as a participant. As a silent observer, there is so much pain. Being alone, I have always been alone, or felt alone, are they separate states or one in the same? There I am playing, talking to myself, no talking to Bobo. I could trust Bobo, he was always there with me, ready to play, or just listen. He was such a good friend, yes, I think my feelings for him were probably the closest to love and trust that I have ever experienced.
Running free outside, there were the chickens pecking the bare ground, the old windmill clanking and Bobo. Mostly, the only other people around me were Momma and Daddy. Bobo, was with me at night, he tried to keep me from harm, but no matter what, he was there, holding me. Then one day, Mamma said I could no longer play with Bobo, her anger made me cringe. I could not let Bobo go, he was always there for me, there in my aloneness. Then, Mama said we were going to bury Bobo. I knew what death was, dead birds, dead chickens, I knew what it meant when someone was buried. She made me do it, by myself. As she watched, I went through the motions, my little five year old self digging a hole in the soft earth, I had no blanket, I had no box, so silently, I told Bobo, I must let him go. I can no long play, no longer talk to him when I am scared. As I closed the grave, I set the stage for a life of duality. Seventy-nine years later, to my little self... and Bobo, I want you to know how strong you were, I, we, have survived, I still operate in two worlds, the everyday world of living and in my inner world where I am a painter, sculptress and creator. I still feel alone even in the company of others.
So glad you shared today. We're sending you love and wishing you strength and inspiration for your painting/sculpting/creating ❤️
Thank you Carmen and Suleika for providing this safe place to share.
Beautifully written and so very moving.
Thank you! This writing, once I started, it just poured out. I think the writing through an acknowledgement has a healing property, an avenue to understand today through years past.
You are loved
I see that cute photo of Fran and immediately think, "German Shepherd mix. My God, why would anyone in NYC have a herding dog?" But that's my picky, linear, Dog 4H Mom thinking. People do all sorts of things successfully.
I'll skip today's prompt. My eyes are on the horizon, and my time on this Earth is limited. Instead I'll buy some more bird food (so far no bird flu in our area) - But I will take a minute to laugh at some of my life's previous purchases. What was I thinking? What ever it was, it made sense at the time!
And I'll hope Suleika won't give up on the Doggie Companion idea. I hope she can find a Havanese! Or some body else bright, cheerful and companionable https://www.akc.org/dog-breeds/havanese/
Ha! Love the idea of laughing at our "previous purchases"—and wow, what a cute pup!
I find my past self in the “play clothes” I wear in these hot Texas summers. Barely covered, I hop on my bike and catch the freshness of the day.
Love this Sue.
Thanks
Love the idea of being friends with my past self instead of the constant comparison. Will use this idea today, Day 66 of your Isolation Journals 100-day project, which brings nothing but joy and love to this community❤️
I am so glad! Sending love your way 💖
Being friends... yes.
Dear Mary Lou even though you were told for years that you were an accident and you were not supposed to be born and that you were not wanted you finally learned at 55 years old that yes you were planned and you were not an accident and that there was a special plan for your life and you are supposed to be here on this planet so now during these last 25 years you do not have to keep seeking for someone to love you for now you know that God loves you and that's very comforting, calming and peaceful
I had an experience set in motion by a younger self just before I opened this prompt! I was struggling to get today’s poem started (yes, still doing the 100-day project), so I opened a message on Instagram. Some random guy sent me this message: “Really, you are so beautiful!” 😂😂😂These messages make me laugh, anyway (please!), but I immediately thought about how old my profile picture is—at least 10 years! He’s talking to an earlier version of me. One that doesn’t have a missing front tooth b/c my implant just had to be removed! Trust me, he wouldn’t send that message to me today! While my bone graft heals, I find myself hiding inside my house. And, this makes me realize that I have to update my self-definition! Even though I consider myself a spiritual person, I’ve been WAY too reliant on my physical appearance. For my entire adult life, really. It makes me sad how entrapped I’ve been by this patriarchal view of women.
Oh goodness—those DMs from strangers always make me laugh too! Here's to a new view of the self that encompasses all of you ❤️❤️❤️
I've been gathering up the bits of myself from years ago, and sometimes as recently as days ago, reminding each version that they are loved and did the best they could with the support (or lack of support) they had. This was such a sweet, cherished essay, Natalie. Thank you. 💜
It’s a simple yet lofty setting. A girl up a tree. At first at eight and ten desperately hiding out. Finding the space to be alone. Free from harm. Then, over time climbing higher. Staying longer. Looking inward and also scanning her surroundings. The other houses. The town. The distant countryside. Perspective. What began as escape become the stuff of dreams and introspection. The hurt become grist for the mill of creativity and hope.
thanks chris.. great image.
The scene takes place in such a beloved place to me, Frankfurt Germany, where I spent my three coming-of-age years (12 turning 13 till 15 turning 16-1974-1977), on the curb in front of my house for those three years, a summer day, with the roses blooming that someone had planted before us and my mother and father lovingly tended. I sit next to my 14-year self-she with her long, straight brown hair, parted in the middle, bell bottoms and bare feet, waiting to see her muse and first love of her life (unrequited though it was) who lived across the street, and me, now at age 60, with hair just as long, only now silver with the essence of the brown from long ago in strands, but with the same star dust in my eyes, barefoot and in jeans, lines from laughing and contemplating life that were not there at 14. "Hello Sweet One" I say to me and ask if I can sit beside "her". "Oh, yes! please come beside me and tell me what to do! I want so much to live this big life and feel so trapped by my fears, so constricted by the expectations of my family to stay 'ladylike' and yet so comforted in odd way in this cocoon of 'what is'. "You have a gift" I say to my young self," that feels like a curse to you right now. And that is that your empathy and desire for peace is sublimating your ability to form your own needs and wants. Be, as you are, open to the teaching of your Muse-he is gentle, kind and generous with his books, albums and time...but know that he is a traveler in your life, and soon, he will be but a memory. It will hurt in places so deep and lonely, that you will go looking for this in others...you will not find it, for it is already inside you. Your question, is 'What do I need and want to help me cultivate my gifts?' Your big sister lives large in you as the voice of 'the critic' and the sooner you can get out from under that voice, the sooner you will see that you have always been worthy, always been unique, always been fabulous. But whatever you choose, you are loved by me, your core self and I will always be with you. We will find our way together. Now, I must go, back to 2022". "Don't go!" pleads younger me, "I have so many question!" I know, says the me with the silver locks, keep asking, keep questing, sprinkle compassion on yourself when you go astray and know that you will come back to 'you'. And just then, her muse, lanky, tall, dark, handsome, walks out his front door with that smile that melts her every time. Her 60-year old self selfishly wishes to stay, to sit by his side once again, but knows it is not her time to do so and drifts off, as she is pulled into his aura when he sits beside her. A gentleness, a loving, compassionate understanding sweeps over my 60-year-old self, for the 14-year-old me and is so thankful, so deeply grateful for the brief but life enhancing return to that curb, that summer of 1975, that the smell of roses always induces.
I wish there was a reply button that was something even greater than a heart. "I want so much to live this big life and feel so trapped by my fears.... 'You have a gift, I say to my young self,' that feels like a curse to you right now. And that is that your empathy and desire for peace is sublimating your ability to form your own needs and wants." I actually remember feeling exactly this way, pretty much my whole life. Thank you so much for this beautiful narrative.
Judi, this means soooo much to me! Thank you for reading and connecting with me. You know, (well you don't, because I haven't said this yet-ha/ha) that re-reading what I had wrote, but reading it in your reply, was super powerful for me! It was like you were saying it to me! Thank you for that. Oh these Isolation Journals are such a portal to self discovery and the sharing of "story" is like we are all sitting around an ancient fire, doing as our ancestors did...storytelling...isn't it magical?
Ha! I'm so happy to know this. I honestly went to bed last night bemoaning "I feel so LONELY" and woke up to "The Lonely Stories" by Natalie. This group...it's just something else.
I so second Mae’s emotion. I was gobsmacked by the pronouncement, so to speak, I read upon landing on the comments page. Thank you Mae, thank you Suleika.