“Withdrawal can be the very best way of stepping forward, and done well—a beautiful, freeing act of mercy—and as an art form, underestimated in this time of constant action and engagement. So much of what we are involved with, in even the highest cause, becomes involvement at the busy periphery, where the central conversation has been lost to the outer edges of what was, to begin with, a very simple central invitation. Withdrawal is often not what it looks like—a disappearance— no, to withdraw from entanglement can be to appear again in the world in a very real way and begin the process of renewing the primary, essential invitation again.”
David Whyte, Consolations
I’ve been in a state of withdrawal for so long. And while sometimes it feels like an art form—a deliberate engagement with a higher cause and resistance to constant action—often it feels like I just don’t know how to step into the world again (I guess this email is my attempt at a baby step…). I see suited people rushing to their busy jobs and feel like I’m from another planet. I pass by groups of friends laughing together in the park and wonder where I went wrong.
My days are spent marveling at my toddler, wandering around Prospect Park and the Botanic Gardens, studying nature, staring at the birds outside my window, and mining my memories for gold. Is this the “primary, essential invitation?” If it is, I wish more people would join me at the party. It’s wondrous and yet I feel so alone here.
I wish this felt like a “beautiful, freeing act of mercy” (whatever that even is?!). In reality, it feels I’ve disappeared, and I can’t tell if it’s because the only people who really knew me are gone, or because I’ve fundamentally changed in their absence. If it’s the latter, I don’t know this new person yet, let alone how to make her appear in the world again.
I paywalled my old Substack posts because I can’t be sure I agree with anything I’ve previously written anymore (thank you to Simeon, Sarah G., and Alden for becoming paid subscribers when I haven’t even written here in half a year; seriously, your unprompted support has encouraged me more than you’ll ever know). I didn’t feel aligned with the book I had written (about pollinators), so I wrote a new one (about grief).1 My partner asked if I’ve come to a better understanding in the process of writing it. Absolutely not. If anything, I have more questions now. But I have at least found more acceptance, I think.
Anyway, hi 🤗
Off to the gardens!
I finished it this week and would love volunteers to read and provide feedback before it’s off to my editor mid-September! Email me if you’re interested….(And thank you to Dany, Beth, and Aaron who have already started to read and provide feedback❣️💗)
"My days are spent marveling at my toddler, wandering around Prospect Park and the Botanic Gardens, studying nature, staring at the birds outside my window, and mining my memories for gold."
I'll join you at that party any day!
Ugh. This made me feel something. Don't know what exactly, but I'll look into it. Say hi to the birds for me!