I am thrilled that this is the latest intensive. I love epistolary writing and have years' worth of my own letters that I have saved as well as from precious correspondents. In fact, I am in the midst of writing an essay about the discovery after my mom's passing in April of my father's love letters to her, chronicling their courtship in 1959 right up to my birth in spring of 1960. It's such a treasure; the story of them, and of me. Can't wait to learn more about how to craft epistolary writing in such a way that the narrative becomes irresistible.
I have just joined and am still groping my way around WITD. I am totally interested in becoming actively involved in your intensives, as I love being challenged to grow (Lordy! Be careful what you wish for- ha,ha!). Then I found this enthusiastic post with info about the Sept. one on letter-writing. The post-script, though, is the piece that just grabbed my heart and gave it a twist.
Wow... You are carrying on regardless, but grief (esp. from a complicated relationship) truly has its own calendar --- not posted in advance with any kind of predictability, but unrolling one (full? fraught?) day at a time. I am so very sorry for your loss and hope you take all the time you need to nourish your spirit! In the comments afterward, I felt all the love in this community that you built, giving back to you and supporting each other as well. It's dawning on me what a blessing it is that the universe guided me to join this special group of brave and compassionate souls. I've never been a part of anything like it.
Dear Jeannine, sending much love for your dear heart these days, looks like another important thing that happened for you in August. I've lost my father two years ago and the complicated mess of feelings still unravels. It was not easy to love him. I am following WITD for almost a year now but only dared to post something in the comments two days ago. I am in awe of how you created this amazingly beautiful community-space. And what you said several times feels so true, that the comments section is as rich as the posts themselves. I am learning so much. You give of yourself so generously to this space. Deeply thanking you and Billie. My only bit of bitterness is that I can't seem to make a constant room for WIDT in my life. But I'll be writing letters with you this autumn, whenever we will begin. 💓
Please know you’re being held close in thought and prayer as you process your new reality - it’s difficult enough losing a parent when the relationship isn’t as fraught with conflicting emotions as yours has been. I cannot imagine. I hope and pray the support you’ve received here of late has lightened your burden somewhat. A book I always gift is Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman - it covers every single emotion we go thru on our grief journeys in a quick daily devotional format. May it bring you a modicum of peace over time 💔🙏🏻😢
Thinking of you, Jeannine. Wishing you peace and patience as things soft and sort. You are not alone and are so deeply loved. We are here for you. Good night.
Well, the last thing I expected was for you to make me laugh- ha! I suspect the whole experience feels like being on the wrong side of a front load dryer, so my wish for comforting laundry products tracks. One day, we will dark humor all the marketing/ satire possibilities in perspective, and in person, and over a warm pan gluten free bread pudding. 💜
Oh Jeannine ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 Footnote 2. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know this complex grief for a parent, the layers of it. I see you.
For me, it felt complicated to mourn the mother I always wanted but never had. Mourn how hard it was between us, how much she hurt me, how much I missed her my whole life. Mourn her loyalty binds. Mourn that standing up to her cracked her like I feared it would. Mourn the scapegoating and smear campaigns. Mourn the shitty freedom from our dreaded interactions after she passed.
One day, when I was washing dishes a few months after she died, these words floated to my mind: “It really did end badly.” I stopped washing and stared at the white wood blinds in front of the window above the kitchen sink. Dish soap bubbles crackled in the water. The square edge of the counter dug into my wrists as the words repeated themselves in my body.
It really did end badly.
I was stunned. In her last years, I’d fought so hard to accept she wouldn’t change. This acceptance was essential to purchase enough distance to survive her when she was alive. Still, that day, I discovered I’d held on to my great misbelief that someday, somehow, we’d fix it.
It’s been two years since my mom died, and I feel her finding her way back to me now. From this safer place, I’m finding my way towards her—even as I find my way towards my deeper, authentic self. Now I understand what people mean when they say they feel closer to their difficult parent after they died. I also have family members who need this time to feel the fullness of their anger. They have no desire to connect with her spirit this way. That makes sense to me, too.
If launching Letters and School in September feels noirishing to you, then do it. But if any part of you needs time and space to let this new wave of grief flow through, I’ll share these loving-bossy words from my therapist, who also has lived experience in this department.
“It’s going to fucking suck,” she said, “so prioritize self-care.”
She told me grief exhausts our bodies, more than we realize, and we may need to sleep 12-14 hours a day. I didn’t make the 12-14 hour range, but I did give myself permission to nap for the first time in my life. She also urged me to take more weeks off work than I thought I’d need, even though it was a busy time. I had the privilege to arrange a month. I’m grateful for her prescription to rest.
So if feels healing to move Letters and School to another month, and even pause your newsletter, then do it if you can take the time. We’ll be here, holding you in our hearts.
My mother died a year ago and every word you wrote is my lived experience as well. I just went to a Breathwork session focused on the Mother Wound. We wrote letters to ourselves from the point of view of our mothers, the version of her we wish she had been. We wrote sitting on the floor in the dark. In the dark. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read what I wrote, but the words and the breath have shifted my interiority. And now have brought me here to wonder and marvel at this tangled life from which we find truth and beauty.
Molly what a profound exercise, writing letters to yourselves in the dark - in the dark - from the mother you wish you had. I relate to this so much. One day, I was typing with my eyes closed, and I felt my mom’s words come to me from a kinder, more empathetic place. It “shifted my interiority,” as you say. Sending my sympathies for your complex loss. I’m so glad we’re finding truth and beauty here together.
Gosh Monika, along with Jeannine, for whom your words were intended-& I’m so grateful for this-
I must also tell you how much your words have also touched me.
I lost my mom 2 yrs ago also. We too, had a difficult relationship. I’d coined myself a ‘motherless daughter’ before she’d even died because- for the bulk of my life it seemed to me that she simply could not tend to, or even be present for me emotionally. She was harsh, critical, had relentlessly high standards that seemed to only apply to me and not my 3 brothers.
I’d also distanced myself from her, starting at a very young age-taking the woman who lived next door to us at age 7, as my mother, so to speak, & eventually moving in with her when I was 17.
Though I never fully threw in the towel, (like you, I’d held on to this desire that somehow we’d ’fix it.”) I suppose subconscious parts of me were still trying to figure out what was wrong with me that I just couldn’t ‘get it right,’ make her pleased with me.
And well, instead, she got Alzheimer’s disease & died within 4 months. (I wrote a post about this where I shared her last words to me).
Since she passed, I have been on a rollercoaster…initially as you reference- feeling almost closer to her & her spirit-receiving insights & messages…downloads that feel like thoughts not distinctly my own (when I walk in the woods which is my church).
And then, I boomerang in another direction- one where I am all alone- disconnected & utterly bereft; feeling angry, confused, heartsick, & frantically wanting a ‘do-over.’
While I believe there is no one shape to grief- it is as distinct as the relationship itself- I think there are losses that carry unresolved complexities like heavy stones.
Thank you for speaking to ‘the suck’ and the Pure Exhaustion that Grief can bring. This is not spoken to nearly enough.
I have never been so tired in my life. (I used to think being pregnant or a new mom was the height of exhaustion).
But this- this is a blood & bone tired that takes away my ability to think at times; renders me stupefied.
Which I suppose sounds funny, if it weren’t so pathetic and frustrating.
[It doesn’t help that I also lost my other Mom (the one next door) just 2 years prior during Covid, & then, just this June, my best friend’s mom very unexpectedly also passed.]
I agree with you & others here who champion rest & self-care for Jeanine & Billie.
I say yes to: permission to do things on a new timeline if necessary; removing obligations, ‘shoulds’ & any extras that feel heavy, as able.
I was never very good at that, but it’s simply the only way forward for me now-one inch at a time. And when I lose myself & forget this, I am reminded by my body.
I am So Grateful for this authentic, creative, nurturing community Jeannine & Billie have created here. ✨
This space has become a haven of self-care for me; a safe place to rest, play, create, to connect, lose & find myself.
It’s become my lighthouse; one with extraordinary luminous intensity.
I add my voice to yours Monika, (& all the others) when I say we love & support you tending to your hearts Jeannine & Billie. We will be here. Xoxo
Colleen, I’m so moved by your letter. I’ve been absorbing it for days. I want to THIS every sentence, especially the unresolved complexities like heavy stones, the Bone and blood heavy exhaustion, and how this space has become a haven of self-care, a safe place to rest, play, create, to connect, lose & find ourselves. “It’s become my lighthouse; one with extraordinary luminous intensity.” YES, and it’s helping me heal. I’m sorry you, too, have had this experience, and I’m so grateful you shared it with me, with us, here. Thank you, thank you, thank you ♥️♥️♥️
Oh Monika- Thank You!!! ☺️ For sharing your experience & response to my comment. I’m honored to have moved you. Truly, truly. To feel seen by someone else in their experience feels almost holy- a holy witnessing that shortens the distance of isolation that can come with all the intensities of being a human, particularly one engulfed in grief. So you taking the time to comment & share how you feel does the same for me. I am grateful for you and all the connection & healing this space offers beyond its literary riches.
So much love and wisdom, Monika. Wish I could hug both of you right now! I have no wise words, just love, and to let you both know I see you and am here through all the suck and the also inevitable beautiful moments that happen despite it. Yes to self care as the priority. So glad you are here, Monika!
I used fictional letter writing in my memoir and it was incredibly healing, written present day, not when they were dated. As I discovered more and more about my biological father, I wanted all the parts of me to relate to him — the innocent child, the anxious teenager — I wanted to feel what it might’ve been like to know him during various phases of my life. Writing from younger perspectives gave me a freedom to express longings that had never previously surfaced and weave those into a fuller experience of my current self. It also helped me reflect on stories I’ve learned about him and lean into caring for and developing compassion for someone I never knew.
I can't believe Strange Containers is over! Though I couldn't participate as quite much as I'd hoped, I came away with some ideas that I'm very excited about 😀
Very much looking forward to Letters and to School! 📨📝🏫📚
From across the oceans, sending you deep gratitude for all you give even as you navigate troubled waters. May you feel held in the safety of our love in this community.
"Letters to My Mother " is a title of a written work that I wish I'd written while she was alive. We had a fraught relationship, and I often think letters may have bridged the gap. I look forward to learning more about letter writing, to bring depth and an increased sense of aliveness to what I write.
I am thrilled that this is the latest intensive. I love epistolary writing and have years' worth of my own letters that I have saved as well as from precious correspondents. In fact, I am in the midst of writing an essay about the discovery after my mom's passing in April of my father's love letters to her, chronicling their courtship in 1959 right up to my birth in spring of 1960. It's such a treasure; the story of them, and of me. Can't wait to learn more about how to craft epistolary writing in such a way that the narrative becomes irresistible.
I have just joined and am still groping my way around WITD. I am totally interested in becoming actively involved in your intensives, as I love being challenged to grow (Lordy! Be careful what you wish for- ha,ha!). Then I found this enthusiastic post with info about the Sept. one on letter-writing. The post-script, though, is the piece that just grabbed my heart and gave it a twist.
Wow... You are carrying on regardless, but grief (esp. from a complicated relationship) truly has its own calendar --- not posted in advance with any kind of predictability, but unrolling one (full? fraught?) day at a time. I am so very sorry for your loss and hope you take all the time you need to nourish your spirit! In the comments afterward, I felt all the love in this community that you built, giving back to you and supporting each other as well. It's dawning on me what a blessing it is that the universe guided me to join this special group of brave and compassionate souls. I've never been a part of anything like it.
This is very moving to me, Flo, and I am very very glad you are here. I look forward to writing letters with you xo
May you find peace in this time of sorrow not just to remember but to sit and be in your memories and heal yourself.
Dearest Jeannine,
You are so beloved by this group. Let us lift you up as we have been lifted by you.
We can wait if you need time to process this loss. You will do what you need to do and we will understand.
Much love,
Marlee
Dear Jeannine, sending much love for your dear heart these days, looks like another important thing that happened for you in August. I've lost my father two years ago and the complicated mess of feelings still unravels. It was not easy to love him. I am following WITD for almost a year now but only dared to post something in the comments two days ago. I am in awe of how you created this amazingly beautiful community-space. And what you said several times feels so true, that the comments section is as rich as the posts themselves. I am learning so much. You give of yourself so generously to this space. Deeply thanking you and Billie. My only bit of bitterness is that I can't seem to make a constant room for WIDT in my life. But I'll be writing letters with you this autumn, whenever we will begin. 💓
Hugs and condolences and commiseration on the death of your father,.my dear. I understand the conflicted feelings of grief and relationships.
Jeannine, I’m sorry for your loss. I hope you find freedom and healing to grieve in whatever way your grief takes shape.
So excited about this, as everything else you do here Jeannine!
Please know you’re being held close in thought and prayer as you process your new reality - it’s difficult enough losing a parent when the relationship isn’t as fraught with conflicting emotions as yours has been. I cannot imagine. I hope and pray the support you’ve received here of late has lightened your burden somewhat. A book I always gift is Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman - it covers every single emotion we go thru on our grief journeys in a quick daily devotional format. May it bring you a modicum of peace over time 💔🙏🏻😢
Jeannine, I am so sorry for your loss. Sending you my love, strength & light.♥️✨♥️
Thinking of you, Jeannine. Wishing you peace and patience as things soft and sort. You are not alone and are so deeply loved. We are here for you. Good night.
Sift, but soft might be even a better wish. Soft landing.
I like the idea of soft and sort. It also sounds a little like a comforting laundry product. And ... seriously, thank you. I really, really feel it.
Well, the last thing I expected was for you to make me laugh- ha! I suspect the whole experience feels like being on the wrong side of a front load dryer, so my wish for comforting laundry products tracks. One day, we will dark humor all the marketing/ satire possibilities in perspective, and in person, and over a warm pan gluten free bread pudding. 💜
That sounds amazing. I’m actually very much a dark humor person, so yes! xo
Xoxo!
Oh Jeannine ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 Footnote 2. I’m so sorry for your loss. I know this complex grief for a parent, the layers of it. I see you.
For me, it felt complicated to mourn the mother I always wanted but never had. Mourn how hard it was between us, how much she hurt me, how much I missed her my whole life. Mourn her loyalty binds. Mourn that standing up to her cracked her like I feared it would. Mourn the scapegoating and smear campaigns. Mourn the shitty freedom from our dreaded interactions after she passed.
One day, when I was washing dishes a few months after she died, these words floated to my mind: “It really did end badly.” I stopped washing and stared at the white wood blinds in front of the window above the kitchen sink. Dish soap bubbles crackled in the water. The square edge of the counter dug into my wrists as the words repeated themselves in my body.
It really did end badly.
I was stunned. In her last years, I’d fought so hard to accept she wouldn’t change. This acceptance was essential to purchase enough distance to survive her when she was alive. Still, that day, I discovered I’d held on to my great misbelief that someday, somehow, we’d fix it.
It’s been two years since my mom died, and I feel her finding her way back to me now. From this safer place, I’m finding my way towards her—even as I find my way towards my deeper, authentic self. Now I understand what people mean when they say they feel closer to their difficult parent after they died. I also have family members who need this time to feel the fullness of their anger. They have no desire to connect with her spirit this way. That makes sense to me, too.
If launching Letters and School in September feels noirishing to you, then do it. But if any part of you needs time and space to let this new wave of grief flow through, I’ll share these loving-bossy words from my therapist, who also has lived experience in this department.
“It’s going to fucking suck,” she said, “so prioritize self-care.”
She told me grief exhausts our bodies, more than we realize, and we may need to sleep 12-14 hours a day. I didn’t make the 12-14 hour range, but I did give myself permission to nap for the first time in my life. She also urged me to take more weeks off work than I thought I’d need, even though it was a busy time. I had the privilege to arrange a month. I’m grateful for her prescription to rest.
So if feels healing to move Letters and School to another month, and even pause your newsletter, then do it if you can take the time. We’ll be here, holding you in our hearts.
Sending so much love to you and Billie. 💞💞
My mother died a year ago and every word you wrote is my lived experience as well. I just went to a Breathwork session focused on the Mother Wound. We wrote letters to ourselves from the point of view of our mothers, the version of her we wish she had been. We wrote sitting on the floor in the dark. In the dark. I haven’t been able to bring myself to read what I wrote, but the words and the breath have shifted my interiority. And now have brought me here to wonder and marvel at this tangled life from which we find truth and beauty.
Molly what a profound exercise, writing letters to yourselves in the dark - in the dark - from the mother you wish you had. I relate to this so much. One day, I was typing with my eyes closed, and I felt my mom’s words come to me from a kinder, more empathetic place. It “shifted my interiority,” as you say. Sending my sympathies for your complex loss. I’m so glad we’re finding truth and beauty here together.
Gosh Monika, along with Jeannine, for whom your words were intended-& I’m so grateful for this-
I must also tell you how much your words have also touched me.
I lost my mom 2 yrs ago also. We too, had a difficult relationship. I’d coined myself a ‘motherless daughter’ before she’d even died because- for the bulk of my life it seemed to me that she simply could not tend to, or even be present for me emotionally. She was harsh, critical, had relentlessly high standards that seemed to only apply to me and not my 3 brothers.
I’d also distanced myself from her, starting at a very young age-taking the woman who lived next door to us at age 7, as my mother, so to speak, & eventually moving in with her when I was 17.
Though I never fully threw in the towel, (like you, I’d held on to this desire that somehow we’d ’fix it.”) I suppose subconscious parts of me were still trying to figure out what was wrong with me that I just couldn’t ‘get it right,’ make her pleased with me.
And well, instead, she got Alzheimer’s disease & died within 4 months. (I wrote a post about this where I shared her last words to me).
Since she passed, I have been on a rollercoaster…initially as you reference- feeling almost closer to her & her spirit-receiving insights & messages…downloads that feel like thoughts not distinctly my own (when I walk in the woods which is my church).
And then, I boomerang in another direction- one where I am all alone- disconnected & utterly bereft; feeling angry, confused, heartsick, & frantically wanting a ‘do-over.’
While I believe there is no one shape to grief- it is as distinct as the relationship itself- I think there are losses that carry unresolved complexities like heavy stones.
Thank you for speaking to ‘the suck’ and the Pure Exhaustion that Grief can bring. This is not spoken to nearly enough.
I have never been so tired in my life. (I used to think being pregnant or a new mom was the height of exhaustion).
But this- this is a blood & bone tired that takes away my ability to think at times; renders me stupefied.
Which I suppose sounds funny, if it weren’t so pathetic and frustrating.
[It doesn’t help that I also lost my other Mom (the one next door) just 2 years prior during Covid, & then, just this June, my best friend’s mom very unexpectedly also passed.]
I agree with you & others here who champion rest & self-care for Jeanine & Billie.
I say yes to: permission to do things on a new timeline if necessary; removing obligations, ‘shoulds’ & any extras that feel heavy, as able.
I was never very good at that, but it’s simply the only way forward for me now-one inch at a time. And when I lose myself & forget this, I am reminded by my body.
I am So Grateful for this authentic, creative, nurturing community Jeannine & Billie have created here. ✨
This space has become a haven of self-care for me; a safe place to rest, play, create, to connect, lose & find myself.
It’s become my lighthouse; one with extraordinary luminous intensity.
I add my voice to yours Monika, (& all the others) when I say we love & support you tending to your hearts Jeannine & Billie. We will be here. Xoxo
Colleen, I’m so moved by your letter. I’ve been absorbing it for days. I want to THIS every sentence, especially the unresolved complexities like heavy stones, the Bone and blood heavy exhaustion, and how this space has become a haven of self-care, a safe place to rest, play, create, to connect, lose & find ourselves. “It’s become my lighthouse; one with extraordinary luminous intensity.” YES, and it’s helping me heal. I’m sorry you, too, have had this experience, and I’m so grateful you shared it with me, with us, here. Thank you, thank you, thank you ♥️♥️♥️
Oh Monika- Thank You!!! ☺️ For sharing your experience & response to my comment. I’m honored to have moved you. Truly, truly. To feel seen by someone else in their experience feels almost holy- a holy witnessing that shortens the distance of isolation that can come with all the intensities of being a human, particularly one engulfed in grief. So you taking the time to comment & share how you feel does the same for me. I am grateful for you and all the connection & healing this space offers beyond its literary riches.
Colleen, this is heartbreaking. I feel some of this in the loss of my grandmother.
I love what you say about WITD “This space has become a haven of self-care for me; a safe place to rest, play, create, to connect, lose & find myself.
It’s become my lighthouse; one with extraordinary luminous intensity.”
Xoxo
Thank you for sharing your heartbreak Lindsey. ♥️
Witnessing you in this loss & our shared loved for WITD.
So much love and wisdom, Monika. Wish I could hug both of you right now! I have no wise words, just love, and to let you both know I see you and am here through all the suck and the also inevitable beautiful moments that happen despite it. Yes to self care as the priority. So glad you are here, Monika!
Thanks Emily 💜💜💜 I feel your love. So grateful to be tucked under your strong wing.
❤️🦤🪶
Monica, this is just luminously beautiful, generous, wise, so many good things. I love all the parts of it, and you.
Love you Jeannine ♥️♥️♥️
I used fictional letter writing in my memoir and it was incredibly healing, written present day, not when they were dated. As I discovered more and more about my biological father, I wanted all the parts of me to relate to him — the innocent child, the anxious teenager — I wanted to feel what it might’ve been like to know him during various phases of my life. Writing from younger perspectives gave me a freedom to express longings that had never previously surfaced and weave those into a fuller experience of my current self. It also helped me reflect on stories I’ve learned about him and lean into caring for and developing compassion for someone I never knew.
In other words, I love this prompt!
How beautiful this sounds!!!
Take whatever time and attention you need. It’s never easy and sometimes really complex. 💜
I am now excited tho for the epistolary form. Frankenstein is one of my probably 2 or 3 favorite fiction books ever and is epistolary.
I also went through a big literary crush on Anais Nin in my late teens reading her diaries. Similiar: this should be fun and revelatory.
A September to remember!
I can't believe Strange Containers is over! Though I couldn't participate as quite much as I'd hoped, I came away with some ideas that I'm very excited about 😀
Very much looking forward to Letters and to School! 📨📝🏫📚
From across the oceans, sending you deep gratitude for all you give even as you navigate troubled waters. May you feel held in the safety of our love in this community.
"Letters to My Mother " is a title of a written work that I wish I'd written while she was alive. We had a fraught relationship, and I often think letters may have bridged the gap. I look forward to learning more about letter writing, to bring depth and an increased sense of aliveness to what I write.