What beautiful reflections Amy, and what a journey. I can relate to so much of it. I am living in Montreal because of my ex-husband, and the teenage daughters I am raising. I am ACHING to be back in Europe. I miss the simplicity, the lightness, the quality of life, the diversity of cultures, languages, and how easy it is to travel from one country to another. I feel so isolated here in Canada and "hopping on" a flight is not that cheap, or realistic. But - in the meanwhile, I am relishing these precious moments with my teenage daughters. I really do. And I live light - small, clean, cozy space, free of clutter. The only thing I "hoard" (guilt-free) are books.
So, I'm with you! Excited for this new chapter in your life. And IFS has been incredibly helpful to me too.
I want to write a longer essay on what "resilience" is for me, because I think it's complex. I believe in it, but - there is also the trap I often fall to: in being so resilient all the time, I have a hard time asking for help. I will develop this thought further and share it with you. Thank you for your writing!
Ah, I get your ache for Europe and suspect a return is in your future, Imola, if not yet. I am glad you are appreciating, of course you are, this time with your daughters. And living light--I aspire to that and am getting so much better at it since my divorce, shedding possessions with every move. And yes, books are what I hoard, too. Deciding which of them I can donate or gift and which I must have with me is the hardest part of this move.
I see what you mean about resilience and its complexity. Can we be resilient and yet bend, like a tree branch, sturdy enough for the winds that come but vulnerable enough to ask for support when we need buffeting? Look forward to your thoughts on it!
I'm so excited for what lays ahead for you, Amy! This post is like a loving goodbye letter to your old self, making room for the new.
I would love to clear out the house and start afresh, but perhaps I'm not as ready as I thought, because the description of packing up so few things to bring forward with you caused me some anxiety. How do you know what to leave and what to bring? I love that you're figuring this out for yourself in terms of what you need/want from life now. I hope to get there one day too!
Tracey, thank you so much for reading and for this kind comment. I am doing lots of farewells these days as I comb through all my saved papers and mementoes and photos from over the years. I am making digital copies of the precious items and letting go of originals. I know that I want to feel light in every way in this next chapter, so that is my incentive.
Oh Amy this was so lovely. The image of the shedding of material things, the image of just a few boxes shipped ahead. How you wrote about your mother and you relationship. The barrette being snapped in - yes! I had a sailor suit like that too - but mine was blue with white trim. And this, "Rather, I learned to be a mother who loves with every ounce of her imperfect heart."
And the photos of you and your mother. Thank you for sharing those. You as a young bride. I remember too how it felt to be in my 20s, getting married. For me I was so hopeful being married would settle me, would ground me. It took me well into my 40s to realize that's up to us. The resilience too. We have to cultivate that for ourselves.
Thank you so much Jocelyn for taking the time to read and comment. I really appreciate what you share here, and yes, barrettes and sailor suits for children of the 1960s. And if you realized what would ground you in your 40s--you were way ahead of me! I had an inkling something wasn't quite right but I was still very much in the stuck place. My 60s were when I found firm ground, able to sink my roots into the rich soil of my wholeness. And still blooming:-)
Thank you Allison for being here and seeing the whole of me. And now I am curious, as a sister etymology nerd, for you to share what you've discovered about restoration. What a wonderful word.
This is so lovely. I don’t know why you inspire me to share tidbits from Jewish wisdom. I’ve done this with you once before. As I read this piece a prayer from the Talmud popped into my mind. “Every blade of grass has its own angel who bends over it whispering ‘Grow, grow.” There’s so much cherish in that sentence. If I were moving I would do it as you describe. I would take so little. I need so little. It’s always been that way. Books. Old photos. My pets. Me. xoxo
Maybe because you sense the Jewish woman in me needs to be reminded of the wisdom of her ancestors:-) I absolutely love that prayer from the Talmud, pure poetry and speaks to this woman still in her bloom, still growing. In that line, I see my mother as that angel, whispering to me. Glad you share a minimalist bent but for me this is new, so alas, I have way too much stuff to sort through right now. My one bedroom apartment looks like it was hit by a cyclone.
Maybe. Could be. Or maybe your sense of spirituality awakens that part of me. I'm not very observant, but I've picked up some wisdom along the way that speaks to me...and that particular prayer is such a beautiful one. It really is a blessing. You'll get through this experience in sorting out the stuff. It sounds like you're doing really well with it. xo
As usual, your words spoke to me and reassured me that I am on the right path even though my path in no way resembles yours. I believe that is the true meaning of good writing; it allows my heart to interpret the writer's words so that they apply to my life's questions.
Lydia, I am so glad to hear from you and send compassion and understanding for the path you are on, which, as you say, differs in many concrete aspects but in the realm of a more emotional/spiritual, human-to-human connection, I am so glad that my writing spoke to you. There is no greater compliment for me as a writer than knowing my words touched your heart. Thank you.
I like how you're pruning your life by taking stock and selecting the most precious and essential elements to bring with you to your new life in Barcelona. Pruning can feel like giving up on what's been established, but the pleasant surprise is that new growth will sprout and in a way closer to your intention and vision.
Looking at the photos you included in this beautiful post, I can sense how your love for the younger versions of you has grown over time through your practice of self-parenting.
Louisa, I knew you would come up with the most perfect gardening analogy, my friend with the incredible green thumb. Thank you. I love that, the idea of pruning, new growth, to see what will sprout--perfect for a woman who is still blooming:-) And yes, isn't it remarkable how the practice of loving self-parenting can make us more tender towards our adult self.
I'm glad you loved the gardening metaphor, Amy! I think it befits what you're doing perfectly. And yes, you are still blooming, and the fragrance from your bloom ever more exquisite. Your tenderness toward your inner child shows!
I hope you won't be shedding friends along the way. I want to follow you on your journey in spirit if not in fact. Wishing you many joyful adventures in this next phase of your life.
Never! Friendships are indispensable to me, as you know. While there will be more physical distance between us, we will stay close in spirit and through our mutual love for the craft of writing. I know we'll continue to support each other in all the ways, no matter the distance!
Nneka, I am so glad you got to experience that buoyancy, the sparkle, the effusiveness and optimism. And joy! The practical stuff is secondary to all of that goodness, right? My words for the year were Abundance, with Freedom and flow in supporting roles, as I wrote about here: https://amybrown.substack.com/p/heres-to-a-year-of-abundance-with. Looks like Resilient is a contender for 2025 but I am still feeling into what word/s feel most resonant (another wonderful R word! Although for me, perhaps it should be a "D" word:-)
You are on such a beautiful journey of the heart and mind. I am so excited for you. You're little girl self is jumping for joy! I am too, as I am just 3 steps behind you as this is my path for a year from now. Such a timely post, thank you for sharing your heart and insightful words (and poetry) with us today. 🩷
Deborah, thank you for this kind comment. And so excited for you that you'll be following this path in a year's time. In my experience, that time will fly by. I am glad you enjoyed my reflections on this juncture of my life, and the poetry.
It was interesting to learn that resilience had the base word salire, to leap or bound. I’ve always known that my name “Sally” meant to sally forth, or move forward. Remember the sally ports in Malta? That’s where the military would rush forward to engage with the enemy. I’ve never wondered about the origin of the word. Happy to know the connection with resilience. You have exciting times ahead of you. 💕
So glad my digging into the etymology of resilience prompted some fun realizations about your own name. You are definitely a resilient and buoyant woman who bounces back as well as with a capacity to "sally forth." Part of my excitement is being closer to friends in Europe such as you.
I’m envious of your move- part of me would very much like to pack light and move far away to immerse myself in a year of creating. It is not my time yet- my adult son lives near me and needs my always-there support as he goes through something difficult.
But your story reminds me of all of the positive reasons to move later in life: the unburdening, freeing aspects of clearing out and paring down our “stuff” to focus on what’s worth keeping physically and what’s ok to keep only in our memories.
Sally, thank you for this. I know how the role of caregiver can keep us fixed in place for a period of time, as it did when I cared for my mom with dementia for a few years. I think if we can hold onto the idea that everything has "divine timing," we know our time to make a move, if that is what we wish, will come when it's right. And yes, this unburdening does feel cathartic. I am dreaming of a perfectly empty apartment in Barcelona, with only my dearest possessions to fill the new space. I've never been a minimalist but there's always hope!
Adventure ahead! How cool you'll be in Barcelona, Amy.
This: 'I will keep are those that reaffirm my sense of belonging in the world, talismans of what I once was and what I might still be.' - My first paraphrasing thought was that these are talismans that reaffirm the evolution of your identity and how you SO strongly belong to yourself, navigating through life and this world.
You've woven these strong threads and your tapestry is brightly coloured, dear Amy! Bravo.
Victoria, thank you for this lovely comment. I love your paraphrasing, what you see in me and indeed, the evolution that I recognize, too, in myself. It is the work of the last two years (and of course of my entire life, even if less slowly and more imperceptibly) to belong to myself. Thank you for seeing that. That is what David Whyte's poem "The House of Belonging" means to me. I am my own house of belonging. Where ever I go, there she is--growing, changing, evolving, living with a full heart and towards greater wholeness.
My perspective is from a succeeding stage of life, cleaning out before the end (there’s a Swedish phrase for this). No dismal thoughts or presentiments in this.
You cite many of the things I also have kept, ultimately for my successors: books (600—I keep a catalog, and have purged and given away many more), a vast collection of MP3 recorded music, photographs of family and the world from early days of my ancestors, a collection of genealogical materials, minor objets d’art, correspondence and writings of all kinds – some of which I have self-published – and a large USA flag given to me at the military funeral of my life-long friend, Fred.
You are entering a wonderful stage of life. Bon voyage…
Ron, I so appreciate this thoughtful comment. 600 books catalogued! That is wonderful! I am sure over my life I have owned 600 books and wouldn't it be something if I had a catalogue of all of them. Books are my friends, they reflect where I was at a specific point in my life, mirrors of state of mind, hopes and dreams. It's interesting to think which of these books I choose to carry with me across the ocean, the ones that have an enduring place in my heart and imagination. You have now given me the idea to catalogue the ones I am choosing to give away, to remember them even if no longer in my possession.
The family photographs especially of early days of one's ancestors, also precious.
And that flag given to you at the funeral of your dear friend Fred. So special.
Thanks for your best wishes for my upcoming move. One lovely aspect is the chance to visit Sweden more often and see friends such as you more often.
What beautiful reflections Amy, and what a journey. I can relate to so much of it. I am living in Montreal because of my ex-husband, and the teenage daughters I am raising. I am ACHING to be back in Europe. I miss the simplicity, the lightness, the quality of life, the diversity of cultures, languages, and how easy it is to travel from one country to another. I feel so isolated here in Canada and "hopping on" a flight is not that cheap, or realistic. But - in the meanwhile, I am relishing these precious moments with my teenage daughters. I really do. And I live light - small, clean, cozy space, free of clutter. The only thing I "hoard" (guilt-free) are books.
So, I'm with you! Excited for this new chapter in your life. And IFS has been incredibly helpful to me too.
I want to write a longer essay on what "resilience" is for me, because I think it's complex. I believe in it, but - there is also the trap I often fall to: in being so resilient all the time, I have a hard time asking for help. I will develop this thought further and share it with you. Thank you for your writing!
Ah, I get your ache for Europe and suspect a return is in your future, Imola, if not yet. I am glad you are appreciating, of course you are, this time with your daughters. And living light--I aspire to that and am getting so much better at it since my divorce, shedding possessions with every move. And yes, books are what I hoard, too. Deciding which of them I can donate or gift and which I must have with me is the hardest part of this move.
I see what you mean about resilience and its complexity. Can we be resilient and yet bend, like a tree branch, sturdy enough for the winds that come but vulnerable enough to ask for support when we need buffeting? Look forward to your thoughts on it!
I'm so excited for what lays ahead for you, Amy! This post is like a loving goodbye letter to your old self, making room for the new.
I would love to clear out the house and start afresh, but perhaps I'm not as ready as I thought, because the description of packing up so few things to bring forward with you caused me some anxiety. How do you know what to leave and what to bring? I love that you're figuring this out for yourself in terms of what you need/want from life now. I hope to get there one day too!
Tracey, thank you so much for reading and for this kind comment. I am doing lots of farewells these days as I comb through all my saved papers and mementoes and photos from over the years. I am making digital copies of the precious items and letting go of originals. I know that I want to feel light in every way in this next chapter, so that is my incentive.
Oh Amy this was so lovely. The image of the shedding of material things, the image of just a few boxes shipped ahead. How you wrote about your mother and you relationship. The barrette being snapped in - yes! I had a sailor suit like that too - but mine was blue with white trim. And this, "Rather, I learned to be a mother who loves with every ounce of her imperfect heart."
And the photos of you and your mother. Thank you for sharing those. You as a young bride. I remember too how it felt to be in my 20s, getting married. For me I was so hopeful being married would settle me, would ground me. It took me well into my 40s to realize that's up to us. The resilience too. We have to cultivate that for ourselves.
I loved this piece so much. Thank you! xoxo
Thank you so much Jocelyn for taking the time to read and comment. I really appreciate what you share here, and yes, barrettes and sailor suits for children of the 1960s. And if you realized what would ground you in your 40s--you were way ahead of me! I had an inkling something wasn't quite right but I was still very much in the stuck place. My 60s were when I found firm ground, able to sink my roots into the rich soil of my wholeness. And still blooming:-)
I nerd out on etymology and lately the word I’m taking a deep dive on is restoration.
You certainly encapsulate resilience! And I am so excited to see what it creates for you in your next adventure in Barcelona.
I loved the photos you share here. The way you invite your readers into your life story is so beautiful.
Off you go! And that sweet little girl is in step with you for the whole thing. ✨💞
Thank you Allison for being here and seeing the whole of me. And now I am curious, as a sister etymology nerd, for you to share what you've discovered about restoration. What a wonderful word.
Stay tuned. I am writing about it for my newsletter this Friday 🙃🙃
Looking forward to feeling restored!
This is so lovely. I don’t know why you inspire me to share tidbits from Jewish wisdom. I’ve done this with you once before. As I read this piece a prayer from the Talmud popped into my mind. “Every blade of grass has its own angel who bends over it whispering ‘Grow, grow.” There’s so much cherish in that sentence. If I were moving I would do it as you describe. I would take so little. I need so little. It’s always been that way. Books. Old photos. My pets. Me. xoxo
Maybe because you sense the Jewish woman in me needs to be reminded of the wisdom of her ancestors:-) I absolutely love that prayer from the Talmud, pure poetry and speaks to this woman still in her bloom, still growing. In that line, I see my mother as that angel, whispering to me. Glad you share a minimalist bent but for me this is new, so alas, I have way too much stuff to sort through right now. My one bedroom apartment looks like it was hit by a cyclone.
Maybe. Could be. Or maybe your sense of spirituality awakens that part of me. I'm not very observant, but I've picked up some wisdom along the way that speaks to me...and that particular prayer is such a beautiful one. It really is a blessing. You'll get through this experience in sorting out the stuff. It sounds like you're doing really well with it. xo
As usual, your words spoke to me and reassured me that I am on the right path even though my path in no way resembles yours. I believe that is the true meaning of good writing; it allows my heart to interpret the writer's words so that they apply to my life's questions.
Lydia, I am so glad to hear from you and send compassion and understanding for the path you are on, which, as you say, differs in many concrete aspects but in the realm of a more emotional/spiritual, human-to-human connection, I am so glad that my writing spoke to you. There is no greater compliment for me as a writer than knowing my words touched your heart. Thank you.
I like how you're pruning your life by taking stock and selecting the most precious and essential elements to bring with you to your new life in Barcelona. Pruning can feel like giving up on what's been established, but the pleasant surprise is that new growth will sprout and in a way closer to your intention and vision.
Looking at the photos you included in this beautiful post, I can sense how your love for the younger versions of you has grown over time through your practice of self-parenting.
Keep on picking what "sparks joy" in you, Amy!
Louisa, I knew you would come up with the most perfect gardening analogy, my friend with the incredible green thumb. Thank you. I love that, the idea of pruning, new growth, to see what will sprout--perfect for a woman who is still blooming:-) And yes, isn't it remarkable how the practice of loving self-parenting can make us more tender towards our adult self.
I'm glad you loved the gardening metaphor, Amy! I think it befits what you're doing perfectly. And yes, you are still blooming, and the fragrance from your bloom ever more exquisite. Your tenderness toward your inner child shows!
Thank you! You are the word spinner when it comes to the bounty of the garden and life.
Ha ha, thank you! Maybe I’m the “salad spinner” 🥬🤣
I hope you won't be shedding friends along the way. I want to follow you on your journey in spirit if not in fact. Wishing you many joyful adventures in this next phase of your life.
Never! Friendships are indispensable to me, as you know. While there will be more physical distance between us, we will stay close in spirit and through our mutual love for the craft of writing. I know we'll continue to support each other in all the ways, no matter the distance!
My word for this year was buoyant. I wanted to feel light and be able to get back up quicker. Be more resilient.
I also wanted my sparkle back. My joy. My effusiveness. My optimism.
I feel more buoyant now at the end of the year. Still sorting through the practical stuff.
Nneka, I am so glad you got to experience that buoyancy, the sparkle, the effusiveness and optimism. And joy! The practical stuff is secondary to all of that goodness, right? My words for the year were Abundance, with Freedom and flow in supporting roles, as I wrote about here: https://amybrown.substack.com/p/heres-to-a-year-of-abundance-with. Looks like Resilient is a contender for 2025 but I am still feeling into what word/s feel most resonant (another wonderful R word! Although for me, perhaps it should be a "D" word:-)
You are on such a beautiful journey of the heart and mind. I am so excited for you. You're little girl self is jumping for joy! I am too, as I am just 3 steps behind you as this is my path for a year from now. Such a timely post, thank you for sharing your heart and insightful words (and poetry) with us today. 🩷
Deborah, thank you for this kind comment. And so excited for you that you'll be following this path in a year's time. In my experience, that time will fly by. I am glad you enjoyed my reflections on this juncture of my life, and the poetry.
It was interesting to learn that resilience had the base word salire, to leap or bound. I’ve always known that my name “Sally” meant to sally forth, or move forward. Remember the sally ports in Malta? That’s where the military would rush forward to engage with the enemy. I’ve never wondered about the origin of the word. Happy to know the connection with resilience. You have exciting times ahead of you. 💕
So glad my digging into the etymology of resilience prompted some fun realizations about your own name. You are definitely a resilient and buoyant woman who bounces back as well as with a capacity to "sally forth." Part of my excitement is being closer to friends in Europe such as you.
We are all looking forward to it.
I’m envious of your move- part of me would very much like to pack light and move far away to immerse myself in a year of creating. It is not my time yet- my adult son lives near me and needs my always-there support as he goes through something difficult.
But your story reminds me of all of the positive reasons to move later in life: the unburdening, freeing aspects of clearing out and paring down our “stuff” to focus on what’s worth keeping physically and what’s ok to keep only in our memories.
Sally, thank you for this. I know how the role of caregiver can keep us fixed in place for a period of time, as it did when I cared for my mom with dementia for a few years. I think if we can hold onto the idea that everything has "divine timing," we know our time to make a move, if that is what we wish, will come when it's right. And yes, this unburdening does feel cathartic. I am dreaming of a perfectly empty apartment in Barcelona, with only my dearest possessions to fill the new space. I've never been a minimalist but there's always hope!
Adventure ahead! How cool you'll be in Barcelona, Amy.
This: 'I will keep are those that reaffirm my sense of belonging in the world, talismans of what I once was and what I might still be.' - My first paraphrasing thought was that these are talismans that reaffirm the evolution of your identity and how you SO strongly belong to yourself, navigating through life and this world.
You've woven these strong threads and your tapestry is brightly coloured, dear Amy! Bravo.
Victoria, thank you for this lovely comment. I love your paraphrasing, what you see in me and indeed, the evolution that I recognize, too, in myself. It is the work of the last two years (and of course of my entire life, even if less slowly and more imperceptibly) to belong to myself. Thank you for seeing that. That is what David Whyte's poem "The House of Belonging" means to me. I am my own house of belonging. Where ever I go, there she is--growing, changing, evolving, living with a full heart and towards greater wholeness.
I definitely see that, Amy - Wholehearted living in Barcelona (re. Brené Brown)! I look forward to reading about your adventures...
I grok this, Amy.
My perspective is from a succeeding stage of life, cleaning out before the end (there’s a Swedish phrase for this). No dismal thoughts or presentiments in this.
You cite many of the things I also have kept, ultimately for my successors: books (600—I keep a catalog, and have purged and given away many more), a vast collection of MP3 recorded music, photographs of family and the world from early days of my ancestors, a collection of genealogical materials, minor objets d’art, correspondence and writings of all kinds – some of which I have self-published – and a large USA flag given to me at the military funeral of my life-long friend, Fred.
You are entering a wonderful stage of life. Bon voyage…
Ron, I so appreciate this thoughtful comment. 600 books catalogued! That is wonderful! I am sure over my life I have owned 600 books and wouldn't it be something if I had a catalogue of all of them. Books are my friends, they reflect where I was at a specific point in my life, mirrors of state of mind, hopes and dreams. It's interesting to think which of these books I choose to carry with me across the ocean, the ones that have an enduring place in my heart and imagination. You have now given me the idea to catalogue the ones I am choosing to give away, to remember them even if no longer in my possession.
The family photographs especially of early days of one's ancestors, also precious.
And that flag given to you at the funeral of your dear friend Fred. So special.
Thanks for your best wishes for my upcoming move. One lovely aspect is the chance to visit Sweden more often and see friends such as you more often.