WOW. What a powerful piece of writing. I connect with so much of it. I was just revisiting some Audre Lorde and there was some really powerful stuff about men relying on women to feel their feelings, and how the most radical thing one can do it raise a son who doesn't expect women do this for him (not that we're all that great at staying in our bodies either!). Thank you for sharing this and for who you are and how you're moving through the world! "A fragile beach" is stuck in my head.
Once again, your words have reached down into my soul with relief. I have needed a good cry for some time and the tears have fallen. I try to be a trooper and put on my happy face but it is just so heavy. Zoom is not enough when your son is expecting his first child and you don't get to hug him and sit with him, let him know he will be a fabulous father. You have to touch when talking about such things. And I probably won't get to meet my granddaughter for months. It is not fair but we all just deal with it and be grateful for the life we have. Thank you, Courtney. I needed a good cry.
Yes to this essay. This line captures my longing and personal sadness, “We want to be reunited with our most generous, relational, and physical instincts.” As a hospital chaplain, I sometimes feel as if I’m doing hard work without my tools during this season (masking and distancing make connecting that much harder). Oh to see, hear, touch, speak tenderly, hug, and draw near again in ways that heal!
I appreciate this, and have been thinking about sadness a lot. I struggle with how much to let the sadness in when I also need to be there every minute for small children. I want to let them know they can grieve to and model that for them and I know I wish I could fall apart a lot more than it seems I can. I love these stories as examples of how to share grief with your kids and process it alongside them.
Thank you for being there - and making my old grandmother self feel comforted and understood. And thank goodness for Stella and Maya and you for giving us all some hints about how we can help ourselves feel better.
Brilliant. I am a minister serving a large congregation. Your words speak truth on so many levels. I may end up quoting you on Sunday (with proper acknowledgment). Ritual speaks beyond words. Wise, wise kids.
You put clear words on my sad, mushy, teary feelings. We are trying to be brave and creative and our women-can-get-through-it belief is being challenged, for sure. So right to both recognize our resilience and our limits. So good to say - I’m done. Enough. And be gloomy. Until you start thinking about some light - a book you notice, a friend that you could Zoom. Up and down. Just what is. 🙁💜👩🏻🦳
Thank you for this- it echoes much of my own feelings of exhaustion, sadness, and loneliness, and watching my own kids try to find mechanisms for coping in their own ways. Also, those flags ARE adorable. Well done, Maya!
Courtney, do you ever have guest bloggers or want to be a guest on someone else's blog? I think our writing & audience is quite similar. You can email me at stepheene@gmail.com thanks
Yeah, this resonates. I spent a post thinking about this whole moment through the lens of grief, for what it's worth: https://citizenstout.substack.com/p/finding-light-in-darkness
WOW. What a powerful piece of writing. I connect with so much of it. I was just revisiting some Audre Lorde and there was some really powerful stuff about men relying on women to feel their feelings, and how the most radical thing one can do it raise a son who doesn't expect women do this for him (not that we're all that great at staying in our bodies either!). Thank you for sharing this and for who you are and how you're moving through the world! "A fragile beach" is stuck in my head.
I am always hugging you. It's my superpower.
I feel it. And I also want the real thing.
❤️
I cried every day in November. On day 2 in December! ❤️
Once again, your words have reached down into my soul with relief. I have needed a good cry for some time and the tears have fallen. I try to be a trooper and put on my happy face but it is just so heavy. Zoom is not enough when your son is expecting his first child and you don't get to hug him and sit with him, let him know he will be a fabulous father. You have to touch when talking about such things. And I probably won't get to meet my granddaughter for months. It is not fair but we all just deal with it and be grateful for the life we have. Thank you, Courtney. I needed a good cry.
Sending you love. Sounds so hard. And you're not alone.
Yes to this essay. This line captures my longing and personal sadness, “We want to be reunited with our most generous, relational, and physical instincts.” As a hospital chaplain, I sometimes feel as if I’m doing hard work without my tools during this season (masking and distancing make connecting that much harder). Oh to see, hear, touch, speak tenderly, hug, and draw near again in ways that heal!
Thank you for your work.
This is so well said. Thank you!
I appreciate this, and have been thinking about sadness a lot. I struggle with how much to let the sadness in when I also need to be there every minute for small children. I want to let them know they can grieve to and model that for them and I know I wish I could fall apart a lot more than it seems I can. I love these stories as examples of how to share grief with your kids and process it alongside them.
Thank you for being there - and making my old grandmother self feel comforted and understood. And thank goodness for Stella and Maya and you for giving us all some hints about how we can help ourselves feel better.
Thank you. And thanks to Stella and Maya who make my sad heart less sad, and dare I say, happy. You and your family are points of light in my world.
Brilliant. I am a minister serving a large congregation. Your words speak truth on so many levels. I may end up quoting you on Sunday (with proper acknowledgment). Ritual speaks beyond words. Wise, wise kids.
I would be beyond honored.
You put clear words on my sad, mushy, teary feelings. We are trying to be brave and creative and our women-can-get-through-it belief is being challenged, for sure. So right to both recognize our resilience and our limits. So good to say - I’m done. Enough. And be gloomy. Until you start thinking about some light - a book you notice, a friend that you could Zoom. Up and down. Just what is. 🙁💜👩🏻🦳
So well put. xoxo
Thank you for this- it echoes much of my own feelings of exhaustion, sadness, and loneliness, and watching my own kids try to find mechanisms for coping in their own ways. Also, those flags ARE adorable. Well done, Maya!
Thank you for this.
Courtney, do you ever have guest bloggers or want to be a guest on someone else's blog? I think our writing & audience is quite similar. You can email me at stepheene@gmail.com thanks