I am not sure whether you have heard of it, but I am currently listening to “The Five Invitations” by Frank Ostaseski who founded the Zen Hospice. It is extraordinary. Also lessons learned from being able to sit close with death in non-judgemental awareness and how those lessons can be applied to make living richer and deeper and more soul-full.
In the middle of an epic move ourselves here and the disruptions and grief and all that music that’s always there even as one moves on to glorious greener pastures…
Amanda, thanks for sharing these thoughts and reflections. I also loved Pema Chodron's book. One of my favorite poems came to mind as I was reading your words. It's called The Dawn Appears With Butterflies, and is an earlier poem by Joy Harjo, but can be found in her new collection: Weaving Sundown In A Scarlet Light. I'll share these two stanzas in the hope you may enjoy them:
Someone is singing in the village. And the sacredness of all previous dawns resonates. That is the power of the singer who respects the power of the place without words, which is as butterflies, returning to the sun, our star in the scheme of stars, of revolving worlds.
And within that the power of the dying is to know when to make that perfect leap into everything. We are all dying together, though there is nothing like the loneliness of being the first or the last, and we all take that place with each other.
It's amazing how our writing changes. When I look back only a year I see I am a different writer. I think your 'writing in other ways,' is important. It stretches us out and changes our perspectives. As long as we write in any form we always come to where we should be.
As to death, some face it silently, others aloud, but we all know its the only absolute in our life .
I once asked a house guest, "So - what do you think happens after we die?" He screamed and laughed nervously and said, "You don't...you DON'T ASK that question...!" I was thrilled to have made him so uncomfortable... :D
I find talking about anything makes it less scary, death is no exception. The really scary thing is the DYING part, and isn't the horror genre all about desensitizing us to all of the scary ways we might die, real or imaginary? :D People are funny.
Thanks for this, Amanda. Although settled now, I can empathise with your feelings associated with not having a permanent home. We (with my partner, Jane) were renting privately for several years. We had to deal with landlords suddenly deciding to sell the house, a major drop in income meaning we eviction for non-payment of rent, and more. We had two periods of sofa surfing - effectively homeless. At one point we were told by Shelter "you're not too old, too young, or too ill, so you'll be okay on the streets". At other times I have experienced stress and anxiety, and Jane is in chronic pain.
All this is support your experiences not being compatible with writing. Pema Chodron definitely helps, along with Jack Kornfield, Jon Kabat Zinn, and living mindfully as a whole. This is sometimes easier said than done, of course.
I appreciate my membership here and your commitment to mindful writing. I'm writing again, and back into photography. Money is stressful (not exactly breaking news) and how to monetise writing is never far from my thoughts, even though the answer is known to be "with great difficulty".
I enjoyed reading your books and am looking forward to reading more of your work, Amanda. Here's to better times ahead for us all.
Thanks Ian. Sorry to hear of your previous housing woes. We’ve been effectively homeless since 2014 but that was a choice we made as we wanted to get rid of all this stuff we’d accumulated. Since then we’ve been house sitting, backpacking and doing work for accommodation exchanges. For some reason we’d got it into our heads we needed to be somewhere long term. But what’s happened recently has woken us back up to the impermanence of everything so we’re re-embracing our travelling ways.
So sorry for your stress and loss, Amanda. Self-care and security and the opposite certainly impact the brain. Your words will return. Thank you for sharing your struggles and journey with us.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Cathy. This was written almost a year ago and I am happy to say they have returned, despite the housing we had organised falling through and still moving around all the time.
I am not sure whether you have heard of it, but I am currently listening to “The Five Invitations” by Frank Ostaseski who founded the Zen Hospice. It is extraordinary. Also lessons learned from being able to sit close with death in non-judgemental awareness and how those lessons can be applied to make living richer and deeper and more soul-full.
Thank you for sharing this, Nicola. I had not heard of this book but just looked it up. Will be adding it to my reading list.
Thank you for sharing this.
Lovely to see you here, Annie. Hope you're doing well.
In the middle of an epic move ourselves here and the disruptions and grief and all that music that’s always there even as one moves on to glorious greener pastures…
Hope it all goes okay and the pastures are lush and glowing emerald when you get there 😊
Hope to get in touch with you soon properly once I have gotten in touch with myself after the moving! Lol
That would be lovely ❤️
Love to you, Amanda.
Thanks, Sarah. Hope all goes well with you.
hugs. I am glad that your words are reappearing.
Thanks Sue 🙏😊
Amanda, thanks for sharing these thoughts and reflections. I also loved Pema Chodron's book. One of my favorite poems came to mind as I was reading your words. It's called The Dawn Appears With Butterflies, and is an earlier poem by Joy Harjo, but can be found in her new collection: Weaving Sundown In A Scarlet Light. I'll share these two stanzas in the hope you may enjoy them:
Someone is singing in the village. And the sacredness of all previous dawns resonates. That is the power of the singer who respects the power of the place without words, which is as butterflies, returning to the sun, our star in the scheme of stars, of revolving worlds.
And within that the power of the dying is to know when to make that perfect leap into everything. We are all dying together, though there is nothing like the loneliness of being the first or the last, and we all take that place with each other.
Thank you so much for sharing these words, Katie. They’re beautiful. I’d not heard of Joy Harjo but shall seek out her work after reading this.
It's amazing how our writing changes. When I look back only a year I see I am a different writer. I think your 'writing in other ways,' is important. It stretches us out and changes our perspectives. As long as we write in any form we always come to where we should be.
As to death, some face it silently, others aloud, but we all know its the only absolute in our life .
Your next spot sounds delightful.
Thanks Michelle. Yes I feel my writing in other ways might be becoming more important to me than writing stories. Time will tell!
I once asked a house guest, "So - what do you think happens after we die?" He screamed and laughed nervously and said, "You don't...you DON'T ASK that question...!" I was thrilled to have made him so uncomfortable... :D
Amazing how so many people can’t talk about something that is inevitable!
I find talking about anything makes it less scary, death is no exception. The really scary thing is the DYING part, and isn't the horror genre all about desensitizing us to all of the scary ways we might die, real or imaginary? :D People are funny.
They are indeed!
Thanks for this, Amanda. Although settled now, I can empathise with your feelings associated with not having a permanent home. We (with my partner, Jane) were renting privately for several years. We had to deal with landlords suddenly deciding to sell the house, a major drop in income meaning we eviction for non-payment of rent, and more. We had two periods of sofa surfing - effectively homeless. At one point we were told by Shelter "you're not too old, too young, or too ill, so you'll be okay on the streets". At other times I have experienced stress and anxiety, and Jane is in chronic pain.
All this is support your experiences not being compatible with writing. Pema Chodron definitely helps, along with Jack Kornfield, Jon Kabat Zinn, and living mindfully as a whole. This is sometimes easier said than done, of course.
I appreciate my membership here and your commitment to mindful writing. I'm writing again, and back into photography. Money is stressful (not exactly breaking news) and how to monetise writing is never far from my thoughts, even though the answer is known to be "with great difficulty".
I enjoyed reading your books and am looking forward to reading more of your work, Amanda. Here's to better times ahead for us all.
Thanks Ian. Sorry to hear of your previous housing woes. We’ve been effectively homeless since 2014 but that was a choice we made as we wanted to get rid of all this stuff we’d accumulated. Since then we’ve been house sitting, backpacking and doing work for accommodation exchanges. For some reason we’d got it into our heads we needed to be somewhere long term. But what’s happened recently has woken us back up to the impermanence of everything so we’re re-embracing our travelling ways.
So sorry for your stress and loss, Amanda. Self-care and security and the opposite certainly impact the brain. Your words will return. Thank you for sharing your struggles and journey with us.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Cathy. This was written almost a year ago and I am happy to say they have returned, despite the housing we had organised falling through and still moving around all the time.