You write better with all your problems resolved. You write better in good health. You write better without preoccupations. You write better when you have love in your life. There is a romantic idea that suffering and adversity are very good, very useful for the writer. I don’t agree at all.
Gabriel García Márquez
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow,
In autumn or summer, springtime or snow,
Where the wayward wander and the south winds blow.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
In the half-dim shadows of twilit glow,
As the untamed fields lie far below,
A night-bird flies in her wintry woe.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
My unbrushed hair is getting curled, just so,
For the rain undid it long ago;
A storm-cloud stole my silken bow.
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
Do tell me, love, if you’re coming, though.
The air is cold and I’m about to go.
I’m not the waiting kind, you know.
(But, oh! your timing’s awfully slow – )
You’ll find me where the wild roses grow.
I recently purchased several used books on child development and gentle approaches to parenting. Even though I don’t have children of my own, I think it’s good to understand the principles of healthy development so that I can interact positively with the young people I do have in my life (like neighborhood children and friends’ sons and daughters). And if I do become a parent one day, I hope to be well-informed, sensitive, and intentional. Besides, I find ideas about education and how to help children flourish (especially the ideas espoused by Maria Montessori) fascinating in and of themselves.
The books, in case you’re interested:
If you’d like to learn more about Montessori, consider checking out The Montessori Notebook and the Association Montessori Internationale.
I’ve been struggling with the symptoms of iron deficiency for a while. I’ve been reluctant to supplement, since iron pills commonly cause digestive distress, among other issues. But then I happened upon an ingenuous little invention called the Lucky Iron Fish.
The Lucky Iron Fish is essentially a small piece of iron (an iron ingot) shaped like a fish. You throw it in a pot of boiling water (with a tiny bit of acid, like lemon juice) or toss it into a liquid dish like soup or curry as it cooks. In the process, the fish releases absorbable iron (6-8 mg per 1 L of liquid) and, when used regularly, it helps to boost your levels of circulating and stored iron. (Don’t worry – if you use the fish as directed, it doesn’t change the taste of your food or drink.)
Unlike many iron supplements, the Lucky Iron Fish doesn’t come with unpleasant side effects and is safe for almost everyone. As a bonus, it’s supposed to survive five years of daily use. The company also does a lot of good work in developing countries in their pursuit of alleviating anemia on a global scale.
Recommended to me by a friend. A relatable song for anyone who struggles with emotional intensity.
Will there ever be a time when I can stop trying? Or is that just the human condition, to ceaselessly strive?
…
The desire to rebel, to break loose, to act uninhibitedly – is just a reflection of the desire to be really and truly human. It’s evidence of the yearning to experience life fully and freely – not fearfully, fractionally, or in a cage.
…
How do you reach into the human heart and fix what is wounded? It is not a matter of making some sutures or replacing a valve. The mechanics of the operation are often unclear and ill-defined. Sometimes the patient lies on the operating table for months, or for years. If only such pains had a quick and pre-formulated repair. There would be far fewer hurting hearts. But, things being what they are, we have to make do – and if this means anything at all, know that, somewhere, someone is praying for you.
In 1975, photographer Nicholas Nixon took a picture of his wife, Bebe, and her three sisters. The next year, he did the same – and the year after that, and the year after that. It became an annual tradition: each year, a black-and-white portrait with the women standing in the same order (from left to right: Heather, Mimi, Bebe, and Laurie), gazing intently into the camera. For over 40 years.
The result was a series of photographs that offered a poignant reflection on aging, sisterhood, and the passing of time – and how the movement of years does (and does not) change us. When prints were exhibited in a gallery in Spain, “viewers openly wept.”
See the first 38 photos here.