I too think I should get out more, but now that I’m almost 70, I find I like being home—doing puzzles, reading, writing, tending to the pets, the hearth and home. I’ve been giving myself permission not to go out, not to be busy, but to recharge so I’m ready when I’m truly needed. I spent years doing, doing, doing—always going, going, going. It feels like a quieter way of giving something back—to myself, my family, and maybe even the world at large.
Jennifer, here is an opportunity for you to break out and do something unique in New York (I am a fan of books at home with cuddles, so I understand you!) I swear you will be glad you did, this is a unique immersive poetry event that is magical. It’s extraordinary, otherwise I would not mention it. Thursday April 30, 8:30PM
in the back room of the historic
Blue Moon Hotel, 100 Orchard St.
Poets Annie Finch & Jane LeCroy, with harpist Anna Bikales, perform in goddess form to form a spiral of snaking spells. Slither out of Poetry month infused with the music and literary magic of Medusa and the Muses to carry you through another year of changing skin. Giancarlo Luiggi opens the ceremony with a reading of Sufi poetry, including translations of Rumi from Haleh Liza Gafori. Poetry Witch Ritual Theater presents “Medusa and the Muses: A Spiral of Snaking Spells,” written and performed by Annie Finch and Jane LeCroy, directed and with musical accompaniment by Anna Bikales. In honor of National Poetry Month. I hope you can shed some skin with us 🐍 it’s your kind of magic ✨✨✨✨
I walk the dogs every morning, for about 45 minutes to an hour, and try to think of that time as a “moral holiday” in the William James sense of the term: a daily respite from care and concern, in the absence of which I’d surely take the dystopian simulation we’re all living through much too oppressively. I do recommend it. It gets you out of the house and out of your head. It replenishes hope that this ugly simulation—you’re right, it doesn’t feel real—must end eventually. Meanwhile, there’s the healing distraction of fresh air and sunshine (possibly a little more in evidence here in middle Tennessee this time of year, so long as our thoughts don’t turn to state politics). That’s one of my projects. Another is to figure out how to write something cheery, dystopia notwithstanding. Something else you seem to have a knack for. Maybe I should join your Zoom room.
I too think I should get out more, but now that I’m almost 70, I find I like being home—doing puzzles, reading, writing, tending to the pets, the hearth and home. I’ve been giving myself permission not to go out, not to be busy, but to recharge so I’m ready when I’m truly needed. I spent years doing, doing, doing—always going, going, going. It feels like a quieter way of giving something back—to myself, my family, and maybe even the world at large.
Thank you for your writing—I really enjoy it.
Thanks so much for this. I love the idea that it is a "quieter way of giving something back." Thanks again.
Jennifer, here is an opportunity for you to break out and do something unique in New York (I am a fan of books at home with cuddles, so I understand you!) I swear you will be glad you did, this is a unique immersive poetry event that is magical. It’s extraordinary, otherwise I would not mention it. Thursday April 30, 8:30PM
in the back room of the historic
Blue Moon Hotel, 100 Orchard St.
Poets Annie Finch & Jane LeCroy, with harpist Anna Bikales, perform in goddess form to form a spiral of snaking spells. Slither out of Poetry month infused with the music and literary magic of Medusa and the Muses to carry you through another year of changing skin. Giancarlo Luiggi opens the ceremony with a reading of Sufi poetry, including translations of Rumi from Haleh Liza Gafori. Poetry Witch Ritual Theater presents “Medusa and the Muses: A Spiral of Snaking Spells,” written and performed by Annie Finch and Jane LeCroy, directed and with musical accompaniment by Anna Bikales. In honor of National Poetry Month. I hope you can shed some skin with us 🐍 it’s your kind of magic ✨✨✨✨
Thanks for the invite! I will try to come!
I walk the dogs every morning, for about 45 minutes to an hour, and try to think of that time as a “moral holiday” in the William James sense of the term: a daily respite from care and concern, in the absence of which I’d surely take the dystopian simulation we’re all living through much too oppressively. I do recommend it. It gets you out of the house and out of your head. It replenishes hope that this ugly simulation—you’re right, it doesn’t feel real—must end eventually. Meanwhile, there’s the healing distraction of fresh air and sunshine (possibly a little more in evidence here in middle Tennessee this time of year, so long as our thoughts don’t turn to state politics). That’s one of my projects. Another is to figure out how to write something cheery, dystopia notwithstanding. Something else you seem to have a knack for. Maybe I should join your Zoom room.
That sounds wonderful.