#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Charlie on the peaceful Charles, late afternoon
Whew, a race of a day. But, first, a fine walk with my daughter, into the meadow, through the woods, talking about love and relationships and life partners. All kinds of good stuff. She gives me feedback on the writing group I led last night that she joined. How she loved it, and why. What else she needs. All helpful to hear. How much she loved hearing the other women, all of them older. I remember my years of psychodrama training, a weekend a month, for seven years, my Tampa years, and how much I valued being in an intimate group with many women older than me who had lived others stages of their lives–how much I learned about how to live my whole self in the decades to come, how to handle mothering issues and friendship issues and health issues and menopause and more. And then, home to lead my Farm Pond Writers on Zoom. Whoosh! What a group today, as we wind down. And two of the members share stories about race, white women, writing about issues of race from their lives, growing up, what they learned, the hard lessons of childhood. And then, my swim from my friend’s dock. With my daughter. I felt the crunch of business, of all the e-mails and needing a poem for tomorrow and the dishes and the laundry and the garden to be watered. And I went swimming, twice around the island without stopping, through the pollinated water, with so much pleasure, energy, a fine and strong and gratifying rhythm. With every stroke, hearing in my mind, thank you thank you thank you wise self for getting my body and mind and spirit into the this lake of wisdom where I am renewed and restored. Dinner gets made, the poem gets written, the dishes get done, the plants get watered, the board meeting gets attended., the hard work of consensus and discussion on our challenging times. Still, the blessing of the swim, I feel it head to toe.
