Gratitude for this glimpse into your making meaning of making meaning. It nudges me to think about basketball, sports, how on a Sunday at Clark Park in the rectangle of that court I can feel pain, triumph, defeat, pride, shame, trust, regret, anger, desire, pleasure, rage— and then I can step off the sideline and walk away, leaving those emotions behind me and carrying them with me somehow at the same time. A meaning is made simply by experiencing it, and it loses its meaning without the experience. There’s a freedom to that, I think. The same way safron could be the colour of genocide in a country I come from- or it could just be the sun dipping past the horizon for the day, the sky stomping its heels. Thank you for the colours of these thoughts running now like paint across my canvas.
My therapist told me I am always trying to make meaning, even when in the middle of things. This was a very helpful and cathartic read. Thank you for your words!
I have been lacking words altogether lately as I heal and lean into zen practices of meditation and being in the present moment. I find myself wanting to simply see, look, touch—all the senses, and I haven’t had any words for them. In other words, I haven’t been writing. I feel at peace, feeling emotion regulation for the first time in my life, but I’m at a pause with it. I’m sure this is just a bit of long rest that my mind and body have been needing for years, and I’m not worried, but it’s odd. I appreciate your words, capturing this pure nothingness, conclusion-free existence that I’m sure so many of us are craving.
Gratitude for this glimpse into your making meaning of making meaning. It nudges me to think about basketball, sports, how on a Sunday at Clark Park in the rectangle of that court I can feel pain, triumph, defeat, pride, shame, trust, regret, anger, desire, pleasure, rage— and then I can step off the sideline and walk away, leaving those emotions behind me and carrying them with me somehow at the same time. A meaning is made simply by experiencing it, and it loses its meaning without the experience. There’s a freedom to that, I think. The same way safron could be the colour of genocide in a country I come from- or it could just be the sun dipping past the horizon for the day, the sky stomping its heels. Thank you for the colours of these thoughts running now like paint across my canvas.
-Sanam
My therapist told me I am always trying to make meaning, even when in the middle of things. This was a very helpful and cathartic read. Thank you for your words!
I have been lacking words altogether lately as I heal and lean into zen practices of meditation and being in the present moment. I find myself wanting to simply see, look, touch—all the senses, and I haven’t had any words for them. In other words, I haven’t been writing. I feel at peace, feeling emotion regulation for the first time in my life, but I’m at a pause with it. I’m sure this is just a bit of long rest that my mind and body have been needing for years, and I’m not worried, but it’s odd. I appreciate your words, capturing this pure nothingness, conclusion-free existence that I’m sure so many of us are craving.
- celina mcmanus
following this prompt by simply walking outside into the sun i love this and you