Hello, everyone --
How are you?
And when you're asked that question, how do you say you are?
Lately I've been answering, "Held together by duct tape." On the real humdinger days (anyone else have a student struggling with remote learning?), I say, "Held together by Scotch tape -- gotta go."
But, big picture, those answers are not really true, not even metaphorically speaking.
The concrete thing that is holding me together in this time of uncertainty -- pandemically and politically -- is a combination of prayer, yoga and running the dog.
Those half-hours, sometimes whole-hours, every morning give me time to hear myself think and, when I'm in the groove, time to actually stop hearing myself think and focus on something bigger, something beyond myself, beyond the here and now.
On the days I get in the zone, when I hit that runner's high, when I get closer to holding bakasana (crow pose), when I find myself perfectly still and that *ping* of inspiration arrives, I remember that what truly holds me together is hope.
Hope for the future and, perhaps more importantly, hope for the now. What is more important than being fully present in this moment, loving and helping our people and those around us in the midst of so much uncertainty?
Yesterday I was thinking about the songtrack of my early life in Minnesota, pre-2001, when my husband and I moved to Washington state, and one of the songs that came to mind was "From a Distance," sung by Nanci Griffith.
I was introduced to the song in 1990, when the global context was very different, but when I listened to that song again yesterday, it struck me as a song for this moment. Here are a couple of verses:
From a distance the world looks blue and green
And the snow-capped mountains white
From a distance the ocean meets the stream
And the eagle takes to flight
From a distance there is harmony
And it echoes through the land
It's the voice of hope, it's the voice of peace
It's the voice of every man ...
Wherever you are, I pray for your heart to be filled with hope.
*
|
|
In this issue of "The Same Loon," I'm sharing:
- brick-and-mortar places that are carrying The Same Moon
- info about Memoir Moments, my upcoming class
- a truly Minnesota moment
With hope and best wishes,
Sarah
|
|
|
Brick-and-mortar stores carrying Same Moon
|
|
If you'd like to support a small business while getting started on some holiday shopping, check out these shops that happen to carry The Same Moon! :)
Zandbroz, Fargo, North Dakota (TSM shipment scheduled to arrive this week)
Main Street Vintage, Vancouver, Washington
Beagle & Wolf Books & Bindery, Park Rapids, Minnesota
|
|
|
From the blog
Different
Living in my home state, I've been listening for -- and happily hearing -- the greatest hits of Minnesota's vernacular. Read this post ...
|
|
Writing our stories ... together?
Plans are firming up for my winter class in which I'll be encouraging people -- YOU, perhaps? -- to write their stories. Here's the working description:
Memoir Moments
Our days are composed of moments. Most drift past and are left behind, while others linger as memories. Taken together, they shape our identities, relationships, beliefs and life direction.
This four-week class will help you select a moment, dive into it, explore it and emerge with a piece of your life story.
I'm offering this class on Thursdays in January via Zoom through Courtyard Fountains Retirement Community in Gresham. Depending on how much interest there is, I might add another class independently.
If this sounds interesting to you, please let me know, so I can keep you especially in the loop.
And if you know anyone else who might be interested, please forward this on.
|
|
|
Thank you for your interest in The Same Moon and sharing stories! You are welcome to share this email with others who might be interested.
If this copy of The Same Loon was forwarded to you, I invite you to subscribe here.
|
|
|
|
|
