I was going through my laptop before this current laptop, yesterday, and I was looking for a short story I wanted to revise, and I marveled at some of the past social media platforms no longer in my life. (Or even, no longer existing. The ghost of MySpace lingers on in cyberspace.) Substack doesn't feel like a social platform, more like a place where writing/creative minds meet and see there are others of us, and we were all ready for a better way of interacting in the online world. We've all gone through a global shift together, and come out the other side. Books, writing, reading, art-making. It's all here.
P.S. The short story was found in a cardboard box. Yay for the physical world.
Sep 20, 2023·edited Sep 20, 2023Liked by Joyce Wycoff
This is a beautiful post. At first look - I loved your art piece. Then I read the post. I relate to so much of it; your artmaking, love of poetry and Mexico. I share these same loves.
What you say about uncertainty is wise; it is the certain who cannot bend or be open to other ways and perspectives. All of life is uncertain, yet it is so easy to get trapped into false certainty when all is going well, then be depressed or bitterly disappointed when our miraculous luck ends - as it always does from one cycle to the next. As you said, it's all only for a time.
My mother never taught me that it was King Solomon; but when I asked her why she always would say "This too shall pass," she told the king story; that he wanted something inscribed in a ring make him feel happy when he was sad and sad when he was happy. That gift stayed with me my whole life; both bitter and sweet. The paradox of duality is that it's the same coin, just different sides - a oneness, too. The 'and, and.'
I look forward to doing a lot with my Stack, thanks to you. As soon as we figure out where the "on" button is and finish the excellent guidance in Guide #1, Guide #2. Is there a Guide #3 in the wings? I'm humbled at the number of people subscribing, based on the name, without any articles. Time to figure this out. Like you, blogging since 2005 and moving the whole thing to Substack feels like trying to turn the Queen Mary around 180. It's not a high-speed boat and there's a lot of passengers and baggage to consider.
That's what my grandmother kept saying, "This too shall pass." I knew only one grandparent because the other three died before I could walk. That's why I got to keep one until she was well into her 90's. Question for today for Joyce: Were you prolific with photography before or after the Miksang workshop. To what extent has photography become part of your creative expression, along with your graphic art?
I love you ending quote and I add one word JOY. I live my life in amazement and joy ( which is usually coupled with a smile and an exclamation like ‘I love my life and thank you’)your post was a reminder that death is real and I am reminded often when I look in my cluttered drawers. I was thinking (just this morning) my poor family will have to clean and toss. So maybe I should write a gratitude note and place it at the bottom. No action yet. Just a thought. As I read all your notes, blogs and poetry, I am so lucky to be able to reflect on my life with your pondering. Thank you.
I certainly have a lot I want to do and discover, so naturally I'd love to put off death for as long as reasonably possible (everything is a trade-off!), but I'm also at peace with knowing I don't have complete control of things. I might be the oldest 47 year old I know (literally, I turn 48 in 2 days!).
I was going through my laptop before this current laptop, yesterday, and I was looking for a short story I wanted to revise, and I marveled at some of the past social media platforms no longer in my life. (Or even, no longer existing. The ghost of MySpace lingers on in cyberspace.) Substack doesn't feel like a social platform, more like a place where writing/creative minds meet and see there are others of us, and we were all ready for a better way of interacting in the online world. We've all gone through a global shift together, and come out the other side. Books, writing, reading, art-making. It's all here.
P.S. The short story was found in a cardboard box. Yay for the physical world.
This is a beautiful post. At first look - I loved your art piece. Then I read the post. I relate to so much of it; your artmaking, love of poetry and Mexico. I share these same loves.
What you say about uncertainty is wise; it is the certain who cannot bend or be open to other ways and perspectives. All of life is uncertain, yet it is so easy to get trapped into false certainty when all is going well, then be depressed or bitterly disappointed when our miraculous luck ends - as it always does from one cycle to the next. As you said, it's all only for a time.
My mother never taught me that it was King Solomon; but when I asked her why she always would say "This too shall pass," she told the king story; that he wanted something inscribed in a ring make him feel happy when he was sad and sad when he was happy. That gift stayed with me my whole life; both bitter and sweet. The paradox of duality is that it's the same coin, just different sides - a oneness, too. The 'and, and.'
More appropriate words might be -
" When it's all over I want to say -
All my life I was a Groom, married to amazement"
I look forward to doing a lot with my Stack, thanks to you. As soon as we figure out where the "on" button is and finish the excellent guidance in Guide #1, Guide #2. Is there a Guide #3 in the wings? I'm humbled at the number of people subscribing, based on the name, without any articles. Time to figure this out. Like you, blogging since 2005 and moving the whole thing to Substack feels like trying to turn the Queen Mary around 180. It's not a high-speed boat and there's a lot of passengers and baggage to consider.
This was good
Love this post, and also what you've done with your older blog posts. Brilliant! 💜
One day at a time with hope and faith in the goodness of humanity to prevail.
That's what my grandmother kept saying, "This too shall pass." I knew only one grandparent because the other three died before I could walk. That's why I got to keep one until she was well into her 90's. Question for today for Joyce: Were you prolific with photography before or after the Miksang workshop. To what extent has photography become part of your creative expression, along with your graphic art?
I'm trying to be accepting. But I love life. I don't mind age.
I love you ending quote and I add one word JOY. I live my life in amazement and joy ( which is usually coupled with a smile and an exclamation like ‘I love my life and thank you’)your post was a reminder that death is real and I am reminded often when I look in my cluttered drawers. I was thinking (just this morning) my poor family will have to clean and toss. So maybe I should write a gratitude note and place it at the bottom. No action yet. Just a thought. As I read all your notes, blogs and poetry, I am so lucky to be able to reflect on my life with your pondering. Thank you.
I certainly have a lot I want to do and discover, so naturally I'd love to put off death for as long as reasonably possible (everything is a trade-off!), but I'm also at peace with knowing I don't have complete control of things. I might be the oldest 47 year old I know (literally, I turn 48 in 2 days!).