#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Morning Brook
"The cold was our pride, the snow was our beauty. It fell and fell, lacing day and night together in a milky haze, making everything quieter as it fell, so that winter seemed to partake of religion in a way no other season did, hushed, solemn."
- Patricia Hampl
Two-part morning spree in woods.
I. Me and the special one, bundled in boots. A very light freezing rain falling, a sleet sky, and the river running icy blue, half frozen. Just listening. It’s quiet in a very preoccupying way. We just listen and look.
II. I take him in to get warm and leave him with his mother. Put on my ski boots and skis. Charlie and I glide off for a long ski through Trustees. I listen to a podcast now; the New York Times podcast of a recently published article about Pauline Boss, the psychologist, scholar on grief and loss and her now well-known concept: Ambiguous Loss. What if there is no such thing as closure? By Meg Bernhard, Dec. 15, 2021, New York Times. I first hear of Boss’s work years ago in a podcast interview of her by Krista Tippett, On Being, which was captivating. So, I am fascinated to hear that Boss has been focusing the past two years on expanding her concepts to include the pandemic losses and losses around racism:
The Myth of Closure” is also her attempt to make sense of simultaneously unfolding catastrophes in her personal life and around the world. “This is the first time I’ve raised ambiguous loss to a higher level regarding the pandemic, a societal level,” Boss told me. In trying to describe losses that society doesn’t always recognize, Boss might be helping us to rethink the nature of loss altogether.
After I listen, again, there is the wonderful quiet of skis on snow through trees. I have put one clementine in my pocket and stop to eat it in the middle of the trail. It’s deliciously cold and sweet. Perfect refreshment. Some animal will find the happy surprise of clementine peels for dinner tonight on the trail. Then, I go shopping. Not for myself, I am actually returning something. But my daughter wants clothes for work and I offer to go with her. And, we have the best shopping experience for her that we’ve ever had in three decades. Huh! Just like that. She finds piece after piece that she loves and that look terrific on her. I am so happy because she is so happy––three bags full. After having a baby this, for a mother, is such a challenge. Finding her way back to a wardrobe of clothes she wants to wear and can wear with confidence and style. She thanked me for coming. I was grateful to have gone.