The hummingbird perched on the sage on my way to greet the hens at dawn?
Crackling of cooling loaves?
How a smile and hello can soften the intimidating?
The refuse in the gutter that begs to be picked up.
A 6-year old's righteousness?
The flour on the floor?
The clouds?
Your breath?
That voice that says, "Fuck it, I'll do it".
How a 4-year old's final proclamations before falling asleep sound like your best friend's drunken ramblings - "I love you critically critically, infinity infinity"
I loved everything about that unedited interview from the first time I heard it. But the funny, little thing I noticed the first time I listened to it-- something that got cut from the edited version-- was the background noise of Mary tapping a new pack of cigarettes against her palm before she opened them. I thought, as I was walking, wait! I know that sound! I didn't know Mary was such a heavy smoker then, though I looked it up afterwards and found out. But somehow that familiar, every day sound humanized her in a way that was very tender for my heart.
Courtney, I love this poem and tribute to MO, who I think is present with us each time we notice the invisible dancing hummingbird; the wet tufted dog hair; the dandelion weee. This also reminds me of “How to Do Nothing” by Jenny Odell as a hopeful vision & manifesto to creating a third space in the attention economy. I love these pieces in conversation :)
So simple and so incredibly touching. What a loss. She was born in the same year as my mom. My mom is still here and we listened to the podcast together.
On Being is THE BEST. I am loving their "Summer of the Pause" newsletter/multimedia offering. It's this gorgeous bit of art and soul that slides into my inbox, and makes everything feel lighter and more connected.
The resistant first step?
The power of momentum?
The hummingbird perched on the sage on my way to greet the hens at dawn?
Crackling of cooling loaves?
How a smile and hello can soften the intimidating?
The refuse in the gutter that begs to be picked up.
A 6-year old's righteousness?
The flour on the floor?
The clouds?
Your breath?
That voice that says, "Fuck it, I'll do it".
How a 4-year old's final proclamations before falling asleep sound like your best friend's drunken ramblings - "I love you critically critically, infinity infinity"
I loved everything about that unedited interview from the first time I heard it. But the funny, little thing I noticed the first time I listened to it-- something that got cut from the edited version-- was the background noise of Mary tapping a new pack of cigarettes against her palm before she opened them. I thought, as I was walking, wait! I know that sound! I didn't know Mary was such a heavy smoker then, though I looked it up afterwards and found out. But somehow that familiar, every day sound humanized her in a way that was very tender for my heart.
What we notice makes up this life of ours doesn’t it. How wonderful this poem is. I’m noticing..
Summer math worksheets getting done at the last minute.
Dings and handprints on white walls from lots of life at home during the last two plus years at home.
The constant sound track of two boys who aren’t so little anymore but are.
Yearning for back to school and dreading it at the same time.
So vivid and evocative. And so "Mary," Courtney. Thank you.
anita goldstein
Other people's expectations wafting past my head to settle on the swollen tree?
Fear of an impending Civil War 2.0 sitting heavy on shoulders like a surly Devil?
The creak of the swing in between giggles and screams?
The pillowy foam of a perfect latte?
When the rare patience during a toddler meltdown subsumes you?
That the sounds of summer never arrived?
gorgeous. Thank you!
Courtney, I love this poem and tribute to MO, who I think is present with us each time we notice the invisible dancing hummingbird; the wet tufted dog hair; the dandelion weee. This also reminds me of “How to Do Nothing” by Jenny Odell as a hopeful vision & manifesto to creating a third space in the attention economy. I love these pieces in conversation :)
This is beautiful, thank you Courtney :)
So simple and so incredibly touching. What a loss. She was born in the same year as my mom. My mom is still here and we listened to the podcast together.
On Being is THE BEST. I am loving their "Summer of the Pause" newsletter/multimedia offering. It's this gorgeous bit of art and soul that slides into my inbox, and makes everything feel lighter and more connected.