You wrote, “I may not change the world, but I can enter into it.” That line is so powerful. It’s a recognition of our own limitations, but also a celebration of our ability to be present. It’s easy to get caught up in wanting to make a grand impact, to leave a huge mark on the world, but sometimes, the most meaningful thing we can do is simply to be fully present in our own little corner of it. To enter into the sanctuaries that surround us, as you so eloquently put it, and to find succor and strength there. It’s a shift from wanting to control to wanting to connect, and it’s incredibly freeing.
Thanks, friend. That line has spoken to a lot of people, and it sort of just poured out of me when I wrote it. That’s why I chose to make it the title. I thought it pulled together the essence of what I was trying to say.
The world is full of wonder, when we allow ourselves to pause and see it, maybe for the first time, maybe in a whole new way, maybe in a surprising new way. Loved this!
This is a beautifully crafted piece of nature writing, Jeannie! Being indoors is useful, but nature -- in all its glory -- can restore and revitalize us. And, as you pointed out, even the bare plants have a beauty all their own during winter. Love this essay.
Thank you, Beth! It was truly an experiment. I wrote it as an offshoot of a writing exercise offered by a Substack writer, Jeannine Ouellette. Happy it resonated with you.
I love your descriptions. You really draw us into your world. This essay is beautiful; like other readers, the line about not changing the world but entering into it stopped me in my tracks, but I also re-read the lines about how the leaves releasing their life-cycle is, on the day you wrote, not violent, and tender, even. Thanks for sharing.
I appreciate you sharing the specifics of what struck you, Katherine. I don't normally write nature pieces, although nature often serves as inspiration for my creative work. I think the title really is what seems to be speaking to most people who are reading what I wrote, and it must therefore be the essence, or "aboutness," of this piece that resonates with others. Thank you!
You wrote, “I may not change the world, but I can enter into it.” That line is so powerful. It’s a recognition of our own limitations, but also a celebration of our ability to be present. It’s easy to get caught up in wanting to make a grand impact, to leave a huge mark on the world, but sometimes, the most meaningful thing we can do is simply to be fully present in our own little corner of it. To enter into the sanctuaries that surround us, as you so eloquently put it, and to find succor and strength there. It’s a shift from wanting to control to wanting to connect, and it’s incredibly freeing.
Thanks, friend. That line has spoken to a lot of people, and it sort of just poured out of me when I wrote it. That’s why I chose to make it the title. I thought it pulled together the essence of what I was trying to say.
Lovely, Jeannie, and I really liked your reading voice! 🙏💚
Well, thanks, friend! I have been told I have a nice "radio" voice. :)
The world is full of wonder, when we allow ourselves to pause and see it, maybe for the first time, maybe in a whole new way, maybe in a surprising new way. Loved this!
Thanks, friend! This was also a Jeannine Ouellette writing challenge from last fall, I think.
This is a beautifully crafted piece of nature writing, Jeannie! Being indoors is useful, but nature -- in all its glory -- can restore and revitalize us. And, as you pointed out, even the bare plants have a beauty all their own during winter. Love this essay.
Thank you, Beth! It was truly an experiment. I wrote it as an offshoot of a writing exercise offered by a Substack writer, Jeannine Ouellette. Happy it resonated with you.
I love your descriptions. You really draw us into your world. This essay is beautiful; like other readers, the line about not changing the world but entering into it stopped me in my tracks, but I also re-read the lines about how the leaves releasing their life-cycle is, on the day you wrote, not violent, and tender, even. Thanks for sharing.
I appreciate you sharing the specifics of what struck you, Katherine. I don't normally write nature pieces, although nature often serves as inspiration for my creative work. I think the title really is what seems to be speaking to most people who are reading what I wrote, and it must therefore be the essence, or "aboutness," of this piece that resonates with others. Thank you!