This is so beautiful and true, David. I didn’t know where to put my hands when I read “the sadness that comes at the thought of the sadness to come”…. That’s the exact corner of the room I try not to look at. But you looked and then you wrote a river. I feel a little less like a loose collection of reactions and more ready to love. Thank you for this beautiful reflection 🙏
Thankyou Oviya. Beyond Thankyou. I wrote this out of a difficult day, in the hope of reaching others. It is… easier… knowing that other hearts can connect with this.
The photographs are wonderful. They make me want to retirn to old places long left behind. Thanks, Dave.
I am thinking of all the lives that have lived in the cabin. The love, laughter, squabbles, heartache. The arrivals and the departures. The end of something and the beginning of something new elsewhere. I am struck by memory and those who cast back to living there and wonder where they are now.
I don't have a photo. But I have a place I go to. How so few remember it now. Scattered to other corners of the earth. Really appreciate this posting. - Richard
It's a wonder we survive so many heartbreaks, knowing newer and fresher ones are waiting in line to crash into us. I mean, seriously, how do we manage it? And to find so much JOY even so. This is lovely, David. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings. We always appreciate you, and your openness, so so much.
Ahh Rebecca - another friend in this strange electric place between places. I so agree....
Maybe some day Meg and I will get to wherever you and Dale physically reside and then we can all spend a warm afternoon sitting by a river and sharing a bottle or two of wine and saying absolutely nothing at all....
Oh, well. Come on up. We're in Chattanooga, TN and we do have a river here. However, I'm not good at silence. Talking is the thing that trips my brain. I talk constantly. Lol. <3 <3 <3 <3
Many years ago, while hitch hiking around Europe (which gives an idea of just how many years ago) I worked in little village near Carcassonne as a grape picker and grape porter during the annual harvest. All the other workers were either local village people, or Spanish farm workers from over the border.
The Husband of the woman who ran the village Post Office took an interest in this lone lost Australian kid - but my French was minimal and the only English he knew was "Chattanooga Choo Choo" - which he had learned as a child from US Soldiers in Northern France after WW2.
Consequently - every time he saw me he sang Chattanooga Choo Choo, to the embarrassment of his rather lovely Daughter - around my age - who did speak English, having learned it quite well at School.
I just finished reading “Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life” by William Finnegan. I thought of you while reading. He, like you, is a world traveler. He, like you, is a thoughtful human, a phenomenal writer. There’s a line that has lodged deep inside me, coming after the death of his mother.
“You have to hate how the world goes on.”
It’s that simple, and that true. We want the world to stop when we hurt, when we lose someone. But it doesn’t. It continues. And we have to make a choice about whether we continue. (Which is a bullshit bit of choice, by the way.) Most of us do, but a piece of us is left in the moment before the loss. And it calls to us. Always. Just like the person we lost.
Hey Kiki. I hope you didn't mind me mentioning you. I kind of thought, on balance, that your huge and wonderful undomesticated heart would be fine with that. I must look up that book.....
Yes, we do leave a piece of ourselves behind every time. We are like Hansel and Gretel, leaving breadcrumbs from our heart as we wander the woods of life. Then, every now and again, we can sit, and look behind us, and follow them back to who we once were...
I like the breadcrumbs leading us back. A poem there perhaps? 😊 I loved the mention! It was a good mention. And the book is superb! (He spends time in Australia working and surfing.)
Eurgh, the relinquishing...I loathe it because I am so greedy for life and love. But imagining the letting go as soft, summer rain helps somehow. Thank you.
You know me enough to know how much this resonates. We should not focus on loss, as impossible as it seems at times, and seize those moments of beauty and the sublime with the uttermost openness, while we can.
I go to Philip Larkin’s Hedgehog whenever I need to be reminded of that.
I thought this would be a post that echoed in your own heart. Yes - we need to recognise and open ourselves to the beauty around us, and the pain also, and find a balance.
Yes to all of this. And you honed in one of the most healing aspects of the natural world for me: Her "Never asking why." It always feels like the antidote and you illustrated this wisdom beautifully with both your words and photos. Thank you!
DAVID, I'm sorry to sully your lovely post. it doesn't deserve this. you don't deserve this. none of us deserves this: the Republicans have slipped in a provision into the Big, Beautiful, Budget Bill, that would allow Trump to ignore every TRO or injunction that has already been issued against the administration!
if the congress gives permission for the president to legally ignore the judicial we are all in big trouble.
PLEASE POST THIS FAR AND WIDE. WE MUST MAKE SURE THAT THIS HIDDEN PERMISSION NEVER BECOMES LAW. IT IS BURIED IN THE BUDGET BILL. HELP STOP IT.
I have chosen not to remove your comment. I have made some political comment here on Substack myself, and over time I'm sure that I will make more.
As it happens, I am myself deeply concerned about the directions and actions of the current US President, however I do suggest that political comment be kept to Posts which themselves have a political content.
What you have written as a comment bears no relation to what I posted, as an Australian citizen writing about loss, grief, and the struggle to find an emotional balance between hope and despair.
I suggest you run the risk of alienating readers who might otherwise be sympathetic to your concerns - as indeed I am.
It feels good to return to your writing. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do so because…life. Speaking of, this is a somber post to arrive to, but its heart, like yours, is steeped in soulful beauty. From your heart you pass that beauty on to us. I’m reminded of a pretty famous Khalil Gibran quote, if I may add some extra beauty:
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."
—(from The Prophet)
Like Gibran’s quote you show us that you embody a profound appreciation for life through mourning it, living through its depths and pain and in doing so live fully in the joy of life and how you choose to present us still with beauty.
I send you so much love (and the same for sweet Meg, too).
You are a wonderful friend, and a loving and insightful soul. Never worry about an absence from reading my work! Life, yes..... There are so many currents, and we are like branches carried on a flood. It is I who needs to make time to read your own work!
We send our love back to you. We have been away from home - visiting family - and trying to give each person whatever they may need.
Now we are heading home - a long way round because of floods (which is why floods are on my mind).
Thanks for this beautiful piece, Dave. I loved your clarity about hidden feelings not being new feelings, but rather, simple, old feelings: "the sadness that comes at the thought of the sadness to come."
This piece has a clear, restful quality that helps to hold such feelings.
Dear Harriet, that is a wonderful comment and compliment to offer.
Thankyou.
I think, perhaps, the anxiety which plagues so many of us - particularly in non-Agrarian "developed" economies - is in part caused by the dizzy whirlpool of daily life, which distracts us from deeper reflection and keeps us from deeper connection, with others and with our own hopes and fears, joys and griefs.
I was, yes, trying to convey - and offer - some stillness, some calm, some restfulness - in the process of finding it for myself on what had been ...... a difficult day.
And I did find it for myself, within myself. We all do have that capacity.....
Dave, my apologies. yes, I shamelessly used your comment section for my own means. Sadly, my means are limited for information that needs to be spread. I understand you upset and discomfort. t
Wonderful words as always Dave, thank you for sharing. The poem was beautiful but it was the part just before that resonated most, “But this is the way of the world, and to focus on loss is to miss the beauty of the whole - because all things change, and move, and become something else, in time.” I have always tried not to focus on loss and I’m sure that is out of a fear that I will miss whatever beauty comes next. All the best, D
This is so beautiful and true, David. I didn’t know where to put my hands when I read “the sadness that comes at the thought of the sadness to come”…. That’s the exact corner of the room I try not to look at. But you looked and then you wrote a river. I feel a little less like a loose collection of reactions and more ready to love. Thank you for this beautiful reflection 🙏
Thankyou Oviya. Beyond Thankyou. I wrote this out of a difficult day, in the hope of reaching others. It is… easier… knowing that other hearts can connect with this.
Best wishes to you
Dave
The photographs are wonderful. They make me want to retirn to old places long left behind. Thanks, Dave.
I am thinking of all the lives that have lived in the cabin. The love, laughter, squabbles, heartache. The arrivals and the departures. The end of something and the beginning of something new elsewhere. I am struck by memory and those who cast back to living there and wonder where they are now.
I don't have a photo. But I have a place I go to. How so few remember it now. Scattered to other corners of the earth. Really appreciate this posting. - Richard
Dear Richard. My thanks.
Yes - there is power in places like that. All those lives….
Now the place itself becomes… something else….
Best Wishes - Dave
It's a wonder we survive so many heartbreaks, knowing newer and fresher ones are waiting in line to crash into us. I mean, seriously, how do we manage it? And to find so much JOY even so. This is lovely, David. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings. We always appreciate you, and your openness, so so much.
Ahh Rebecca - another friend in this strange electric place between places. I so agree....
Maybe some day Meg and I will get to wherever you and Dale physically reside and then we can all spend a warm afternoon sitting by a river and sharing a bottle or two of wine and saying absolutely nothing at all....
Best Wishes from far away Oz-tralia, Dave :)
Oh, well. Come on up. We're in Chattanooga, TN and we do have a river here. However, I'm not good at silence. Talking is the thing that trips my brain. I talk constantly. Lol. <3 <3 <3 <3
Ha! Can we take the Choo Choo?
Many years ago, while hitch hiking around Europe (which gives an idea of just how many years ago) I worked in little village near Carcassonne as a grape picker and grape porter during the annual harvest. All the other workers were either local village people, or Spanish farm workers from over the border.
The Husband of the woman who ran the village Post Office took an interest in this lone lost Australian kid - but my French was minimal and the only English he knew was "Chattanooga Choo Choo" - which he had learned as a child from US Soldiers in Northern France after WW2.
Consequently - every time he saw me he sang Chattanooga Choo Choo, to the embarrassment of his rather lovely Daughter - around my age - who did speak English, having learned it quite well at School.
D :)
I just finished reading “Barbarian Days: A Surfing Life” by William Finnegan. I thought of you while reading. He, like you, is a world traveler. He, like you, is a thoughtful human, a phenomenal writer. There’s a line that has lodged deep inside me, coming after the death of his mother.
“You have to hate how the world goes on.”
It’s that simple, and that true. We want the world to stop when we hurt, when we lose someone. But it doesn’t. It continues. And we have to make a choice about whether we continue. (Which is a bullshit bit of choice, by the way.) Most of us do, but a piece of us is left in the moment before the loss. And it calls to us. Always. Just like the person we lost.
Life. Too much and too little all at once. ❤️💔
Hey Kiki. I hope you didn't mind me mentioning you. I kind of thought, on balance, that your huge and wonderful undomesticated heart would be fine with that. I must look up that book.....
Yes, we do leave a piece of ourselves behind every time. We are like Hansel and Gretel, leaving breadcrumbs from our heart as we wander the woods of life. Then, every now and again, we can sit, and look behind us, and follow them back to who we once were...
Best Wishes always - Dave
I like the breadcrumbs leading us back. A poem there perhaps? 😊 I loved the mention! It was a good mention. And the book is superb! (He spends time in Australia working and surfing.)
Eurgh, the relinquishing...I loathe it because I am so greedy for life and love. But imagining the letting go as soft, summer rain helps somehow. Thank you.
Hi Maddie
Well yes, and that’s a greed - I confess - that I share. Eventually… we do have to move on….
I am in no hurry, mind you.
Best Wishes - Dave
Hey Dave,
You know me enough to know how much this resonates. We should not focus on loss, as impossible as it seems at times, and seize those moments of beauty and the sublime with the uttermost openness, while we can.
I go to Philip Larkin’s Hedgehog whenever I need to be reminded of that.
Your friend,
Mahdi
Hey dear Mahdi
I thought this would be a post that echoed in your own heart. Yes - we need to recognise and open ourselves to the beauty around us, and the pain also, and find a balance.
Stay well, my friend.
Best Wishes - Dave :)
Yes to all of this. And you honed in one of the most healing aspects of the natural world for me: Her "Never asking why." It always feels like the antidote and you illustrated this wisdom beautifully with both your words and photos. Thank you!
Thank you dear Stephanie. The natural world is so healing, even as we harm it.
We so badly need to find a balance.
Very Best Wishes - Dave :)
DAVID, I'm sorry to sully your lovely post. it doesn't deserve this. you don't deserve this. none of us deserves this: the Republicans have slipped in a provision into the Big, Beautiful, Budget Bill, that would allow Trump to ignore every TRO or injunction that has already been issued against the administration!
if the congress gives permission for the president to legally ignore the judicial we are all in big trouble.
PLEASE POST THIS FAR AND WIDE. WE MUST MAKE SURE THAT THIS HIDDEN PERMISSION NEVER BECOMES LAW. IT IS BURIED IN THE BUDGET BILL. HELP STOP IT.
Hi Thelma
I have chosen not to remove your comment. I have made some political comment here on Substack myself, and over time I'm sure that I will make more.
As it happens, I am myself deeply concerned about the directions and actions of the current US President, however I do suggest that political comment be kept to Posts which themselves have a political content.
What you have written as a comment bears no relation to what I posted, as an Australian citizen writing about loss, grief, and the struggle to find an emotional balance between hope and despair.
I suggest you run the risk of alienating readers who might otherwise be sympathetic to your concerns - as indeed I am.
Very Best Wishes from Australia - Dave
David, thank you for your kind reply. You understand that words matter.
Hi Dave!
It feels good to return to your writing. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do so because…life. Speaking of, this is a somber post to arrive to, but its heart, like yours, is steeped in soulful beauty. From your heart you pass that beauty on to us. I’m reminded of a pretty famous Khalil Gibran quote, if I may add some extra beauty:
"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."
—(from The Prophet)
Like Gibran’s quote you show us that you embody a profound appreciation for life through mourning it, living through its depths and pain and in doing so live fully in the joy of life and how you choose to present us still with beauty.
I send you so much love (and the same for sweet Meg, too).
~Syl
Dear Syl
You are a wonderful friend, and a loving and insightful soul. Never worry about an absence from reading my work! Life, yes..... There are so many currents, and we are like branches carried on a flood. It is I who needs to make time to read your own work!
We send our love back to you. We have been away from home - visiting family - and trying to give each person whatever they may need.
Now we are heading home - a long way round because of floods (which is why floods are on my mind).
Stay well, live well, love well.
Best Wishes - Dave and Meg :)
Thanks for this beautiful piece, Dave. I loved your clarity about hidden feelings not being new feelings, but rather, simple, old feelings: "the sadness that comes at the thought of the sadness to come."
This piece has a clear, restful quality that helps to hold such feelings.
All my best to you.
Dear Harriet, that is a wonderful comment and compliment to offer.
Thankyou.
I think, perhaps, the anxiety which plagues so many of us - particularly in non-Agrarian "developed" economies - is in part caused by the dizzy whirlpool of daily life, which distracts us from deeper reflection and keeps us from deeper connection, with others and with our own hopes and fears, joys and griefs.
I was, yes, trying to convey - and offer - some stillness, some calm, some restfulness - in the process of finding it for myself on what had been ...... a difficult day.
And I did find it for myself, within myself. We all do have that capacity.....
Thankyou again, and best wishes to you.
Dave
I totally agree with everything you have said, Dave. :)
Dave, my apologies. yes, I shamelessly used your comment section for my own means. Sadly, my means are limited for information that needs to be spread. I understand you upset and discomfort. t
A beautiful share, David! Have a wonderful Sunday in your neck of the woods.
Hi dear Caroline
Thankyou! Yes - it's been a perfect, still, calm Autumn Sunday here by our river.... night now cloaking it in darkness.
Enjoy yours!
Best Wishes - Dave :)
🩵🩵🩵
Wonderful words as always Dave, thank you for sharing. The poem was beautiful but it was the part just before that resonated most, “But this is the way of the world, and to focus on loss is to miss the beauty of the whole - because all things change, and move, and become something else, in time.” I have always tried not to focus on loss and I’m sure that is out of a fear that I will miss whatever beauty comes next. All the best, D
Thanks, my friend...
Best Wishes - Dave :)