This writing, your personhood and gift are sustenance. I mean it. I was pulled through an emotional knothole today, and I just settled on the couch to read this and I wept at its truth and beauty. Which I’ve been needing to do for weeks. Thank you for feeding my heart today. I really didn't have it in me to even shop for it.
As several have said, thank YOU for offering sustenance. I cried while listening to the Ukranian soldier and Sting making music and reading your words. I'm with you in the pleasures of what we jokingly call around here "fingering a chicken" together - I'd choose that any day over fancy food. Thank you for uplifting the essential soul need for sustenance and for tuning to what that is for each of us. I'm listening now to that last Sting song you posted and tears are brimming as I type, while a pot of clam chowder (with all the butter, bacon, and cream, fortunately or unfortunately) is simmering on the stove. I'm reminded of Mark Nepo's iconic line, "I am sad and everything is beautiful." That feels like the most honest ground we can stand on these days. Thank you for your sustenance. It matters.
Thank you so much for the offering of Sting singing the Russians song. Takes me back, far back to whenever I have heard it so many times. Your comment that many of us are too young to know such horror hits me as well. I am age 73 and what I am feeling now I can't compare to anything I have known in all my lifetime, not on a national and international scale like this. Although the grief and horror I feel today seems similar to deep distress I have felt on a personal level related to personal past events, this is different. It is a level of sadness I am not ready for.
Like Kate, this made me feel so deeply. (and then listening to Sting sing that after all these years - tears). Elissa, all your writing is powerful, but when you are writing about sustenance, it's like the words take shape and wrap around us. Thank us.
It’s an odd thing: I vividly remember going to see Dream of the Blue Turtles in 1986 (?) and that song figured prominently in it. It’s stayed with me since then. Maybe also because I love Prokofiev.
This is beautiful writing that expresses the deep well of suffering and of SUSTENANCE of our common human existence. To live and fight for dignity and freedom we all need sustenance in our daily life. As a psychologist and psychotherapist these very real springs of nourishment are how I have seen many people heal or at least go on living where goodness eventually returns. Thank you for this beautiful article so needed today.
Thank you for your voice, Elissa. May we nourish ourselves with tender and soft. May we dare to risk delight and collaborate as writers. May we embrace nuances of compassion and gentle with fierce wisdom and unconditional love. May we seek the necessity of sustenance in the sea and rivers, mountains and wooded trails. May we feed the Sparrow and the Hawk and welcome the Indigo Bunting and Cardinals and Hummingbirds as we all migrate through these turbulent days. May we carry poems in our pockets and read them in solitude. May we find humor in the absurdity. May we hold lightly the heavy. May we snuggle with our beloveds be they human, dog, or cat. May we tend to our own hearts first and celebrate these messy bodies of muscle and limbs like twine. May we use our voices to illuminate one another. May our wild beings understand the knowing and the mystery. May we share the plenty. May we weep when we need to weep. May we receive one another’s laughter like melody. May we weave heartbreak into prose and dissonance into jazz. May we step outside our comfortable circle to welcome new friends. May we sit around fires and be the storytellers we are. May we lead with empathy and listen with curiosity.
Thank you, Elissa Joon, for your writing and your courage. All good things for you both. And the furry family too. When the world gets too loud seek sustenance and cocoon in the alchemy of our own hearts. Keep going. Keep writing. ✍️
Elissa, I felt like I was traveling in your words, the stories...yes, good writing is sustenance for me. And you, gave me that just now. Yes, I feel unmoored and yes, one foot in front of the other. Thank you.
I always am nurtured by your posts. I am a 74 year old Jewish lesbian from Montreal. I live in Oregon. I am a foodie, musician, 2 on the Enneagram, retired educator, writer. I totally relate to all you write. My mom died 2 weeks ago at age 101. Her memory is a blessing. You are a blessing. Live long and be well. 🙏
Thank you, Elissa, this is beautiful and deep, giving me pause to think. As others have said, I find sustenance in your writing and that of Katherine May, Anne Lamott, and others. The poetry of Mary Oliver to start my days, the enjoyment of warm, traditional scones made by a friend, and sharing homemade soup in return. The morning songs of returning birds bring me peace and fill me as well. I am grateful to be here, but fear that this and other communities like it are putting too much weight on the souls and shoulders of generous givers like you.
This writing, your personhood and gift are sustenance. I mean it. I was pulled through an emotional knothole today, and I just settled on the couch to read this and I wept at its truth and beauty. Which I’ve been needing to do for weeks. Thank you for feeding my heart today. I really didn't have it in me to even shop for it.
As several have said, thank YOU for offering sustenance. I cried while listening to the Ukranian soldier and Sting making music and reading your words. I'm with you in the pleasures of what we jokingly call around here "fingering a chicken" together - I'd choose that any day over fancy food. Thank you for uplifting the essential soul need for sustenance and for tuning to what that is for each of us. I'm listening now to that last Sting song you posted and tears are brimming as I type, while a pot of clam chowder (with all the butter, bacon, and cream, fortunately or unfortunately) is simmering on the stove. I'm reminded of Mark Nepo's iconic line, "I am sad and everything is beautiful." That feels like the most honest ground we can stand on these days. Thank you for your sustenance. It matters.
*this* is sustenance, thank you for the gift of it.
Thank you so much for the offering of Sting singing the Russians song. Takes me back, far back to whenever I have heard it so many times. Your comment that many of us are too young to know such horror hits me as well. I am age 73 and what I am feeling now I can't compare to anything I have known in all my lifetime, not on a national and international scale like this. Although the grief and horror I feel today seems similar to deep distress I have felt on a personal level related to personal past events, this is different. It is a level of sadness I am not ready for.
"Grief is the unspoken love for those we have lost"
Go ahead, make me cry. Such good writing, and such a good heart behind the words. Thank you for this essay. I needed it.
So beautiful! I really needed this tonight as tomorrow is the birthday of my partner, who died almost a year ago. One step at a time…
Like Kate, this made me feel so deeply. (and then listening to Sting sing that after all these years - tears). Elissa, all your writing is powerful, but when you are writing about sustenance, it's like the words take shape and wrap around us. Thank us.
💗💗💗
It’s an odd thing: I vividly remember going to see Dream of the Blue Turtles in 1986 (?) and that song figured prominently in it. It’s stayed with me since then. Maybe also because I love Prokofiev.
This is beautiful writing that expresses the deep well of suffering and of SUSTENANCE of our common human existence. To live and fight for dignity and freedom we all need sustenance in our daily life. As a psychologist and psychotherapist these very real springs of nourishment are how I have seen many people heal or at least go on living where goodness eventually returns. Thank you for this beautiful article so needed today.
Thank you for your voice, Elissa. May we nourish ourselves with tender and soft. May we dare to risk delight and collaborate as writers. May we embrace nuances of compassion and gentle with fierce wisdom and unconditional love. May we seek the necessity of sustenance in the sea and rivers, mountains and wooded trails. May we feed the Sparrow and the Hawk and welcome the Indigo Bunting and Cardinals and Hummingbirds as we all migrate through these turbulent days. May we carry poems in our pockets and read them in solitude. May we find humor in the absurdity. May we hold lightly the heavy. May we snuggle with our beloveds be they human, dog, or cat. May we tend to our own hearts first and celebrate these messy bodies of muscle and limbs like twine. May we use our voices to illuminate one another. May our wild beings understand the knowing and the mystery. May we share the plenty. May we weep when we need to weep. May we receive one another’s laughter like melody. May we weave heartbreak into prose and dissonance into jazz. May we step outside our comfortable circle to welcome new friends. May we sit around fires and be the storytellers we are. May we lead with empathy and listen with curiosity.
Thank you, Elissa Joon, for your writing and your courage. All good things for you both. And the furry family too. When the world gets too loud seek sustenance and cocoon in the alchemy of our own hearts. Keep going. Keep writing. ✍️
Elissa, I felt like I was traveling in your words, the stories...yes, good writing is sustenance for me. And you, gave me that just now. Yes, I feel unmoored and yes, one foot in front of the other. Thank you.
Beautiful read. “You have to feed your heart” resonates deeply during these interesting times.
I always am nurtured by your posts. I am a 74 year old Jewish lesbian from Montreal. I live in Oregon. I am a foodie, musician, 2 on the Enneagram, retired educator, writer. I totally relate to all you write. My mom died 2 weeks ago at age 101. Her memory is a blessing. You are a blessing. Live long and be well. 🙏
Thank you for writing - I’m sorry for your loss🙏🏻
You are my hero!!!....one former NYC gal to another!!......stay strong....one foot in front of the other...we re all n this together!
Thank you, Elissa, this is beautiful and deep, giving me pause to think. As others have said, I find sustenance in your writing and that of Katherine May, Anne Lamott, and others. The poetry of Mary Oliver to start my days, the enjoyment of warm, traditional scones made by a friend, and sharing homemade soup in return. The morning songs of returning birds bring me peace and fill me as well. I am grateful to be here, but fear that this and other communities like it are putting too much weight on the souls and shoulders of generous givers like you.
Elissa, this is a beautiful story. Thank you.