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Renewal is an Ongoing Cycle
We experience love, grief, loss, transformation...in no particular order
Hello Friends, new & old, each of you coming here with your unique mix of human experiences~
Welcome to our second prompt about Renewal. For everyone who jumped into Journey with the Seasons recently, a quick intro: each month we explore a theme connected to your inner & outer landscape. Each week, I share a reflection & a creative self-expression prompt for you related to the theme.
Jump in. These prompts are like standing at these rocks on the edge of the ocean. Approach them with your curiosity & intuition, excitement & also whatever doubts are there.
I love to receive your responses to these prompts. Keep sharing. There’s a community of us here, even if we never meet or know each other. I believe our connections go deeper than what we can visualize. A depth we can sometimes sense.
A personal story:
When I was six years old, just a few months after my beloved grandfather Georg’s death, I accidentally learned about the existence of the Shoah from older kids at my Sunday school. Soon after that, I learned that my grandfathers’ family had been murdered in the Shoah. I’ve felt an immense sense of grief for them ever since that time. I’ve struggled to name the grief.
For many years, I tried to ameliorate it by reading about the history of this time period, watching documentaries, trying to process not only the horror of what happened to my family but hatred and cruelty, in a global sense.
None of that work brought me peace (though I did learn a lot about history).
A few years ago, I started to imagine the people we lost in our family and things began to shift.
I won’t tell you too much about this process now because it’s long and windy and complex and involves me healing from cancer and learning to listen to my intuition and so I’m writing a book about it. (Just working on the first draft. It’s gonna take some time).
But this last week, something amazing connected to Renewal happened in terms of my family and transforming my grief.
I discovered (not gonna tell you how—remember there will be a book down the road!) that there is a stumbling stone for my great-grandmother Olga, my grandfather’s mom. The stone is embedded in the sidewalk outside of the flat in Amsterdam where she was living before being arrested and sent to a camp.
A website with her name and some of her story exists. We never knew that until a week ago.
When I saw this photo of her name on the stone, something similar to hope and faith and connection surged through me.
I never imagined that there was a public memorial for her, anywhere. I never imagined how I might feel if I knew that one exists.
Each time some moment like that happens now (there have been a number of them), I’m reminded that grief transforms in its own time.
I want to go and see her name there on the sidewalk someday.
I think of the people who made this memorial come to life: the ones who carved her name on the stone, the ones who built the code for her webpage, those who fundraise to make her memory alive in this way. People who have no idea about us, her descendants, who mourn for her. Who remember.
If you had told me a year ago about this discovery, I might not have thought it possible.
We never know what’s possible, I think now.
In this moment in your life, I wonder about the mix of love and loss and hope and grief that you’re holding. This week’s prompt invites you to imagine a sense of renewal arriving, somewhere that you least expect it. Give it a try.
Writing Practice: Set aside 5-7 minutes for this practice. Write in a journal or open a ‘Journey with The Season’ document where you can return each Sunday.
Prompt: Take a few deep breaths and settle into your writing time.
Make a list of anything and everything happening in your life that needs some renewal—a bit of energy, a shift, some hope.
This list might include things happening now—or experiences from your past that you hope to release or transform in some. way.
Look over your list and select one item that really draws your attention.
Write a fantasy story about the impossible happening—about renewal coming, even magically, to where you really need it.
Look over your story after you read it. You may want to return to it later in the week and write from what you’re feeling that day.
Deepening Practice: Imagine something in the collective world that’s broken down and in need of repair.
Try the same fantasy exercise with this broken thing. Imagine an effort, an action or even a miracle that restores what is broken, something that breathes new life into a difficult problem or situation.
I’d love to read your responses and encourage you to share!
I’m really excited about my upcoming Autumn Expression Writing Circle! All sessions (October 22 & 29, November 5 & 12) are recorded so that you can participate at your own convenience.
Because you’re a Journey With The Seasons subscriber, I’m offering a discount code of $7 off when you register: EFYY8GNA
Renewal is an Ongoing Cycle
Marc, this poem is beautiful...so happy that you engaged with the prompt and it took you to this depth:
Your prompt generated this different kind of poem for me:
Renewal in the Waters of Life
9.10.23
By Marc Jacobs
Everything was on an even keel.
Then it happened;
Pierced by it;
Tears quickly filled the vessel;
Too shocked to bale.
Water level rising,
Too heavy to paddle.
Unable to stop the flow
Fear gripped my being
Could this be the end.
Managed to plug a cloth into the hole.
Sat there: I had to do something more.
Dazed memories clouding my vision
The journey could not continue like this,
But shore seemed inexplicably far away.
Time passed.
There I was
Surrounded by salty droplets.
Must act.
Unable.
Eyes trying to focus.
I could see others in the distance.
Not too far away,
But beyond my reach.
Water level renewed by my grief
What to do? Found my unused jug.
Remembered how I used it last time.
Dipped it in the same way.
It filled and I emptied it overboard.
Repeating as water level slowly lessens.
As I worked less time for tears.
Started waving at others.
They drew their boats near,
Reached out and pulled me toward shore.
Progressing with the power of their tow.
Once on solid ground,
They lifted me from my damaged container.
Resting in the sun I and my canoe both dried.
Their circle of loving repair surrounded me,
And I was able to begin safely drifting forward again.