If your words were not enough, these stunning photos reveal stories too to help access those very difficult emotions that recounting needs to heal.
"She recounted the ordinary days they spent together, what being there for someone really meant and the blessings of friendship heightened by its impermanence..."
I love how life, and particularly nature, provides-- when other sources can't-- models of grief, connection, and faith. For me, it has been poetry, music, and gardening.
Each year, my garden reminds me of the poet Rilke's line, "I live my life in widening circles...".
I witness how brief the life of a flower-- and our lives-- are. And yet, in that impermanence are these limitless widening circles of life and connection that also remind us of the felt, embodied awareness and love that is beyond impermanence.
That felt, embodied awareness-- that, by the way, is beyond the suffering of time-- is always at our doorstep, gently knocking.
It is that profound, internal sacred space where our loved ones, no longer here, are still living. I still speak with my father who left his body 55 years ago when I was 12. I still speak to loved ones who have so greatly impacted my life, who I haven't seen in many years.
Though the forms of the living give way to impermanence, the love of these connections are here, now, and everywhere if we can learn to open our hearts to them. To the signs.
I know loss intimately and without soft covers of protection. And, those very losses have been my greatest teachers that remind me, as Robert Frost whispers in my ear everyday, "Earth is the right place to love; i don't know where it's likely to go better."
Paul, thank you for sharing this beautiful reflection—and your father’s story. I really appreciate the way you describe that inner space where connection continues, and how nature quietly reminds us of it. Your words stayed with me. I will write down the Frost quote in my journal.
These photographs are stunning! And these words touched me. I, too, love Ann Patchett and her work, These Precious Days, (though I read it as a book). Thank you for sharing ♡
Dear Stella, I'm so grateful for the way you share your musings and losses, what inspires you, what gets you through. It's true what you say about presence, that there are times when it's the only thing that matters. We don't always remember the words anyway, but we do remember someone being there in those hardest moments. I love this photographic series too. I'm particularly drawn to faded blooms, and your title is just incredible. So much vulnerability and fragility and strength. Big hugs to you.
Thank you, Anne for your thoughtful response. It’s a vulnerable, tender piece, and I’m glad that you understand and appreciate them. It’s always tough to touch on grief but that’s where I’m called to respond and create. I have to honor it.
Absolutely! If ever there was a subject that touches everyone at some point in their lives and has such universal impact, it would be grief. In honoring the calling, you honor everyone who has ever grieved, your sister, and yourself. Bravo for facing that vulnerability and following where you are called.
Beautiful. I’m so glad that small comfort was available. Hugs dear Stella.🤗🤗
Thank you, Beth.
Ann Patchett is a favorite. She has a beautiful way of writing about ordinary life.
Good Morning Stella,
If your words were not enough, these stunning photos reveal stories too to help access those very difficult emotions that recounting needs to heal.
"She recounted the ordinary days they spent together, what being there for someone really meant and the blessings of friendship heightened by its impermanence..."
I love how life, and particularly nature, provides-- when other sources can't-- models of grief, connection, and faith. For me, it has been poetry, music, and gardening.
Each year, my garden reminds me of the poet Rilke's line, "I live my life in widening circles...".
I witness how brief the life of a flower-- and our lives-- are. And yet, in that impermanence are these limitless widening circles of life and connection that also remind us of the felt, embodied awareness and love that is beyond impermanence.
That felt, embodied awareness-- that, by the way, is beyond the suffering of time-- is always at our doorstep, gently knocking.
It is that profound, internal sacred space where our loved ones, no longer here, are still living. I still speak with my father who left his body 55 years ago when I was 12. I still speak to loved ones who have so greatly impacted my life, who I haven't seen in many years.
Though the forms of the living give way to impermanence, the love of these connections are here, now, and everywhere if we can learn to open our hearts to them. To the signs.
I know loss intimately and without soft covers of protection. And, those very losses have been my greatest teachers that remind me, as Robert Frost whispers in my ear everyday, "Earth is the right place to love; i don't know where it's likely to go better."
Paul, thank you for sharing this beautiful reflection—and your father’s story. I really appreciate the way you describe that inner space where connection continues, and how nature quietly reminds us of it. Your words stayed with me. I will write down the Frost quote in my journal.
These photographs are stunning! And these words touched me. I, too, love Ann Patchett and her work, These Precious Days, (though I read it as a book). Thank you for sharing ♡
Thank you, Niquelle for letting me know. I appreciate it! And welcome to Sundays with Stella. I’m glad you are joining me in this creative journey.
Dear Stella, I'm so grateful for the way you share your musings and losses, what inspires you, what gets you through. It's true what you say about presence, that there are times when it's the only thing that matters. We don't always remember the words anyway, but we do remember someone being there in those hardest moments. I love this photographic series too. I'm particularly drawn to faded blooms, and your title is just incredible. So much vulnerability and fragility and strength. Big hugs to you.
Thank you, Anne for your thoughtful response. It’s a vulnerable, tender piece, and I’m glad that you understand and appreciate them. It’s always tough to touch on grief but that’s where I’m called to respond and create. I have to honor it.
Absolutely! If ever there was a subject that touches everyone at some point in their lives and has such universal impact, it would be grief. In honoring the calling, you honor everyone who has ever grieved, your sister, and yourself. Bravo for facing that vulnerability and following where you are called.