New to Substack, I did a search for “dance” so it naturally brought me here. This is the first post I’ve read from you and that’s all it took. Dancing in my kitchen for all of us while you just can’t, looking forward to hearing about where these things move you from here.
Welcome to Substack, Isidora... I'm pleased to hear you found me through all the swirl of what's available here on this platform with the search word 'dance'. I look forward to reading Tinkerings. :) How was that kitchen dance of yours? Things are always moving, aren't they? I have to tell you that I love your name because it reminds me of one of my favorite dancers - Isadora Duncan. Thank you for subscribing and reading and saying hello.
You were actually pretty close to the top for that search. Ooooh yay, thanks! Welcome-welcome! The kitchen dance was so lovely as always. That's one of my favorite times to dance, when I'm making food and simply grooving. And yes. Isadora. 🥰 I'm gradually migrating my old memoir blog to two different Stacks. Bella & the Beast has more of my martial arts stuff, so Tinkerings is where I will put my writing about my connection to her and all my heftiest dance influences. She is one of my Muses for sure! I hope your heart has been easing some...
On my 30th birthday, I was flying my beautiful vibrant 21 month old sons ashes to India. When the plane door opened I could see a Bombay stopped, no rickshaws, buses, taxis were moving as I was joined in my grief with a country in mourning for their beloved president had been killed a few days prior. The next decade was profound grief, how I survived without jumping off a building was simply grace and the blessings of a new son, a new marriage and a new chance. Five years later, the rebound relationship was over and I was back in the black hole of grief once again. This time I lost my house, my store, my cars and a new war had erupted as my x-wife kidnapped my now 2 sons to Canada. Geesh as I'm writing this I'm inspired to write my book!!! and what I wanted to say to u my friend is hang in there as it will get better. Keep letting grief have her way with u and u will return to joy!!! and that grief will become an old friend that is always welcomed in for tea.
LaFleur...There are so many things you have shared here that it makes me want to just hug you and be hugged by you for a very long time. Thank you for taking the time to not only read and really 'see/hear' me, but for also taking time to write of your own grief you've experienced. We never know what a person carries. I didn't know yours.
I am sorry for the loss of your son, for the deep betrayal that followed, and your subsequent losses. However it was that you made it through your own process of grief, I'm so glad you did. I'm grateful our paths met one another's on a different island a few years back. What you expressed about allowing grief to have its way with me, I've been doing just that. I'm beginning to feel more flickers of joy more often and that's a comforting and beautiful thing. Whether it's tea or a cocktail, I'll continue to welcome grief in whenever she pays me a visit. Thank you for reminding me of this. 🙏
The sadness from within which you write is deep. I want to rescue you from a loneliness that seems draped over you, my dearest daughter. I, too, have missed you for a long time. I have also wanted to rescue you more times than you can imagine. But strength and resilience in the face of challenges or adversity were always your fierce companions, and it seemed that rescue would be more about what I wanted than what you would choose. Witnessing you struggling again to regain your footing makes me want to pull you back to safety. And yet, I do see, as I read your words; it is writing that comes to your rescue now and returns you to an "ever-optimistic, joy-filled woman". But I will always be close by NMW. I love you, Lila.
Your words move me to more tears and...they are tears of joy. I have many internal fierce companions and I am fortunate to have family and friends who are fierce companions as well. I love you, Mom.
New to Substack, I did a search for “dance” so it naturally brought me here. This is the first post I’ve read from you and that’s all it took. Dancing in my kitchen for all of us while you just can’t, looking forward to hearing about where these things move you from here.
Welcome to Substack, Isidora... I'm pleased to hear you found me through all the swirl of what's available here on this platform with the search word 'dance'. I look forward to reading Tinkerings. :) How was that kitchen dance of yours? Things are always moving, aren't they? I have to tell you that I love your name because it reminds me of one of my favorite dancers - Isadora Duncan. Thank you for subscribing and reading and saying hello.
You were actually pretty close to the top for that search. Ooooh yay, thanks! Welcome-welcome! The kitchen dance was so lovely as always. That's one of my favorite times to dance, when I'm making food and simply grooving. And yes. Isadora. 🥰 I'm gradually migrating my old memoir blog to two different Stacks. Bella & the Beast has more of my martial arts stuff, so Tinkerings is where I will put my writing about my connection to her and all my heftiest dance influences. She is one of my Muses for sure! I hope your heart has been easing some...
On my 30th birthday, I was flying my beautiful vibrant 21 month old sons ashes to India. When the plane door opened I could see a Bombay stopped, no rickshaws, buses, taxis were moving as I was joined in my grief with a country in mourning for their beloved president had been killed a few days prior. The next decade was profound grief, how I survived without jumping off a building was simply grace and the blessings of a new son, a new marriage and a new chance. Five years later, the rebound relationship was over and I was back in the black hole of grief once again. This time I lost my house, my store, my cars and a new war had erupted as my x-wife kidnapped my now 2 sons to Canada. Geesh as I'm writing this I'm inspired to write my book!!! and what I wanted to say to u my friend is hang in there as it will get better. Keep letting grief have her way with u and u will return to joy!!! and that grief will become an old friend that is always welcomed in for tea.
LaFleur...There are so many things you have shared here that it makes me want to just hug you and be hugged by you for a very long time. Thank you for taking the time to not only read and really 'see/hear' me, but for also taking time to write of your own grief you've experienced. We never know what a person carries. I didn't know yours.
I am sorry for the loss of your son, for the deep betrayal that followed, and your subsequent losses. However it was that you made it through your own process of grief, I'm so glad you did. I'm grateful our paths met one another's on a different island a few years back. What you expressed about allowing grief to have its way with me, I've been doing just that. I'm beginning to feel more flickers of joy more often and that's a comforting and beautiful thing. Whether it's tea or a cocktail, I'll continue to welcome grief in whenever she pays me a visit. Thank you for reminding me of this. 🙏
The sadness from within which you write is deep. I want to rescue you from a loneliness that seems draped over you, my dearest daughter. I, too, have missed you for a long time. I have also wanted to rescue you more times than you can imagine. But strength and resilience in the face of challenges or adversity were always your fierce companions, and it seemed that rescue would be more about what I wanted than what you would choose. Witnessing you struggling again to regain your footing makes me want to pull you back to safety. And yet, I do see, as I read your words; it is writing that comes to your rescue now and returns you to an "ever-optimistic, joy-filled woman". But I will always be close by NMW. I love you, Lila.
Your words move me to more tears and...they are tears of joy. I have many internal fierce companions and I am fortunate to have family and friends who are fierce companions as well. I love you, Mom.