Hi Ramona, Well, guess it wasn't time for you to make that move, yet. I like solitude and I am lonely at the same time. I love living alone, and miss a certain person equally as much.
When I read your post about moving I had an instant thought of "Lucky them!" for it seemed like the perfect scenario for both parties, I am so sorry it didn't work out, if I were 10 years younger I'd make an offer. Best wishes!
Speaking from experience, there’s a certain amount of “inner resourcing” that solitude requires.
Sometimes the recipe for writing surprises me. I thought the solitude of mountain life SURELY would produce the best writing of my life. But I wrote very little. Instead I swirled in questions, came face-to-face with buried grief and I learned to place my attention on the rhythms of nature in a way that’s hard to describe.
Lately I’ve taken to say that living in the mountains is how I got my upgraded “Listening Ears.”
Who knows what this new season will bring for you. I just wouldn’t be surprised if the stories you publish in 2-3 years are being “written” in the vortex of solitude ahead of you now. Hang on for the ride. It’ll be a good one. 🫶
P.S. Don’t forget there’s always Zoom where I can offer obnoxious, nature-laden writing reflections. 🤗
Nov 1, 2023·edited Nov 2, 2023Liked by Ramona Grigg
I found the relative solitude of the pandemic inspiring. I ended up writing and publishing dozens of essays, some of which had been ideas or not even ideas, just notions, for a long time.
Though I don't live somewhere isolated, our house is at the dead center of a pre-war neighborhood platted in 1929 from a 400-acre farm, and we hear no noise from any nearby roads. When the windows are open, we hear bird song, and distant trains. It's lovely.
I was wondering what was going on and knew an update would come. It sure came. I embrace solitude as well. It sounds like you'll be OK Mona. I talk to myself inside, outside, and in public when I forget where I am. I have ongoing conversations with myself out loud and I find it quite helpful and easy. Sometimes I get smart ass answers. If it was time for you to move, it would have happened. You needed another winter in your home and you're getting it.......
I think...no, I *know* there's a deep wisdom in our bodies which, when we can quiet our yappy little minds long enough, will speak plainly and accurately. (They don't call it "gut instinct" for nothing.) The trick is that we have to remember to ask and then remember to listen. It sounds like you were listening intently to the physical anxiety that was telling you, "Stay." Bravo! So much illness, especially chronic illness arises when we prioritize the wisdom of thought over the wisdom of wordless physical feedback.
I hear you about getting a lot of writing done when totally alone. For years, I'd take a 1-week retreat where (other than calls home), I'd see and/or talk to no one. I got a ton of writing done and it felt so liberating. I need to do that again! Enjoy your solitude! I look forward to reading what emerges.
One, I DO want to hang with you when the snow flies! Two, I find once more in this post out kindred spiritedness. I was living in the van (new to it) when Covid first came to the US. The next handful of months became a period of solitude I hadn’t expected. There were moments of loneliness, yes. But much of it was blissful solitude, a very different creature indeed. Three, this put me in mind of some folx I met jn Alaska who spend a winter buried in snow, the sun never to appear for months. A whole new level! Thanks for sharing!
Sorry to hear about the sale falling through. It happened to us back in those distant days of lockdowns and restrictions. I love the intentionality of your commitment to stay put. Love the sound of your gentle conversations with yourself and the tip tap of fingers on the keyboard, words flowing. Happy too that folk are there to help with the practicalities and that there are alternatives if the need arises. PS, were all just a tap of the keyboard away. Looking forward to sharing winter with you.
I confess I find myself slightly envious of your upcoming winter. Which is actually quite bizarre as I don't like the cold at all. But there is something about that solitude surrounded by a world made soft by snow and sharp and clear by cold. After a month, I would turn out to love it deeply or be reenacting the entire movie The Shining...
Sorry about the sale falling through but perhaps Fate has other things in mind.
Meanwhile, bingo. Solitude is a wonderful soul state. I wrote exactly that yesterday as I prepared Saturday's newsletter. Take care and go fill your pantry and freezer bigtime!
Hi Ramona, Well, guess it wasn't time for you to make that move, yet. I like solitude and I am lonely at the same time. I love living alone, and miss a certain person equally as much.
When I read your post about moving I had an instant thought of "Lucky them!" for it seemed like the perfect scenario for both parties, I am so sorry it didn't work out, if I were 10 years younger I'd make an offer. Best wishes!
Speaking from experience, there’s a certain amount of “inner resourcing” that solitude requires.
Sometimes the recipe for writing surprises me. I thought the solitude of mountain life SURELY would produce the best writing of my life. But I wrote very little. Instead I swirled in questions, came face-to-face with buried grief and I learned to place my attention on the rhythms of nature in a way that’s hard to describe.
Lately I’ve taken to say that living in the mountains is how I got my upgraded “Listening Ears.”
Who knows what this new season will bring for you. I just wouldn’t be surprised if the stories you publish in 2-3 years are being “written” in the vortex of solitude ahead of you now. Hang on for the ride. It’ll be a good one. 🫶
P.S. Don’t forget there’s always Zoom where I can offer obnoxious, nature-laden writing reflections. 🤗
"I’m not a hermit by any means but I like being alone." 💚
I found the relative solitude of the pandemic inspiring. I ended up writing and publishing dozens of essays, some of which had been ideas or not even ideas, just notions, for a long time.
Though I don't live somewhere isolated, our house is at the dead center of a pre-war neighborhood platted in 1929 from a 400-acre farm, and we hear no noise from any nearby roads. When the windows are open, we hear bird song, and distant trains. It's lovely.
I was wondering what was going on and knew an update would come. It sure came. I embrace solitude as well. It sounds like you'll be OK Mona. I talk to myself inside, outside, and in public when I forget where I am. I have ongoing conversations with myself out loud and I find it quite helpful and easy. Sometimes I get smart ass answers. If it was time for you to move, it would have happened. You needed another winter in your home and you're getting it.......
Yay for peace.
Snow is a brilliant backdrop for cleaning our spiritual house too!
I think...no, I *know* there's a deep wisdom in our bodies which, when we can quiet our yappy little minds long enough, will speak plainly and accurately. (They don't call it "gut instinct" for nothing.) The trick is that we have to remember to ask and then remember to listen. It sounds like you were listening intently to the physical anxiety that was telling you, "Stay." Bravo! So much illness, especially chronic illness arises when we prioritize the wisdom of thought over the wisdom of wordless physical feedback.
I hear you about getting a lot of writing done when totally alone. For years, I'd take a 1-week retreat where (other than calls home), I'd see and/or talk to no one. I got a ton of writing done and it felt so liberating. I need to do that again! Enjoy your solitude! I look forward to reading what emerges.
One, I DO want to hang with you when the snow flies! Two, I find once more in this post out kindred spiritedness. I was living in the van (new to it) when Covid first came to the US. The next handful of months became a period of solitude I hadn’t expected. There were moments of loneliness, yes. But much of it was blissful solitude, a very different creature indeed. Three, this put me in mind of some folx I met jn Alaska who spend a winter buried in snow, the sun never to appear for months. A whole new level! Thanks for sharing!
So... no need for the "Come back with a warrant" sign?
Sorry to hear about the sale falling through. It happened to us back in those distant days of lockdowns and restrictions. I love the intentionality of your commitment to stay put. Love the sound of your gentle conversations with yourself and the tip tap of fingers on the keyboard, words flowing. Happy too that folk are there to help with the practicalities and that there are alternatives if the need arises. PS, were all just a tap of the keyboard away. Looking forward to sharing winter with you.
I confess I find myself slightly envious of your upcoming winter. Which is actually quite bizarre as I don't like the cold at all. But there is something about that solitude surrounded by a world made soft by snow and sharp and clear by cold. After a month, I would turn out to love it deeply or be reenacting the entire movie The Shining...
Sorry about the sale falling through but perhaps Fate has other things in mind.
Meanwhile, bingo. Solitude is a wonderful soul state. I wrote exactly that yesterday as I prepared Saturday's newsletter. Take care and go fill your pantry and freezer bigtime!