Good grief, it's been since April!
And everything looks different.
October 29, 2023—waning Gibbous moon in Taurus
Hello loves,
It’s been six intense months since I last published here. Though, maybe it’s more accurate to say it’s been SIX INTENSE MONTHS. (I know I’m not often shouty, but things got shouty-intense over the summer.)
The good news is, in October, I waved goodbye to shouty-intensity and am saying hello to just normal HSP, ADHD, poet-crone life intensity. (Feel free to laugh riotously. I do. Frequently.)
The hard news is from April to October I waved goodbye to writing. I mean I didn’t freewrite, journal, or make poems nearly at all with the exception of a few phrases—some yeasty snippets stashed in my gathering-dust notebook.
26 May Lately, it feels as if my time belongs to everyone except me. A few minutes. I just need a few minutes.
That was hard. I felt odd. Almost dismembered.
where?
my words my faith my equanimity
all hostage to
this brow-creased
steel-haired
shouting harridan
this crusty
crustacean woman
who the hell am I?
The one thing intensity does is peel away the unnecessary and reveal the essential.
By the time life was equalizing at the beginning of October I knew, in my bones, that there are things I want to put my presence into and things I don’t. Full stop—no faffing about.
This poem snippet, “A few minutes. // I just need a few minutes.” encapsulates my inspiration for this newsletter—for my purpose as a poet, these days.
We all need space. Just a few minutes where the only thing asked of us is to be with ourselves fully, exquisitely.
A few days ago, I used the phrase, “moments of breathing space” to describe my mission for this Substack. The (amazing, glorious, creative) women listening offered a collective and wildly encouraging “Yes!”
And so it is.
I will publish when life allows, so expect random.
I’ll record audio versions when I’m able.
I will include images (like the “Sky Poems” in this letter) and poem snippets and maybe writing catalysts.
The point will be to offer you breathing space. A moment of no demands. A sacred space for you and your beloved self.
This is a bit different from what I was doing with this Substack when I called it “Write Yourself Home” so I understand if it’s not your groove. But, if you’ve ever needed just a few minutes away from everything, maybe stick around. Find some breathing space.
With appreciation,
Tracie
Loving your Sky Poems🥰💖
Ooh yes, Tracie. This ❤️