"Deeply loving anyone, or anything, comes with such enormous risk. And yet, we do it."
I love this---loved reading about your connection to your David-love! Warmed my heart, made me feel what real life is in all its wondrous intuitive connections---steady, steady on---beautuful stuff. Facing fears.
Your stories of life, death & birds fill me with joy somehow. Not the giddy stuff, which is cool too, but like I'm being open-arm welcomed into that great big circle of knowing that the best things are so often found in small moments, in endurances, in staying connected to each other. To be bonded, to feel understandings wordlessly, to just know; to choose to live wide awake moment by moment; to be a warrior at heart toward life & death; tending gently and wisely to living beings in need. Thank you, Chloe, you leave me full of joy...
Beautifully expressed, Chloe. I do like the idea of a pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood Death, but have been favoring Death as a View more recently: "And then it seemed to him as in his dream, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise." (Tolkien) That's nice, isn't it? 💜
It is SOOOO cool that a group of sparrows is called a crew!
I think it’s great you named Norman (even if the rules prohibit it).
And I found the rest of your story - about David and your acknowledgment that you still struggle with the idea of death even though it is something you write about - a beautiful and honest insight into the nuanced and complex nature of death. You sharing that death it is still something you grapple with despite your knowledge of it, is one (of the many) reasons why you I hope you continue with your substack.
I’m struggling to find the words layered and heartfelt enough to convey how listening to you and David’s story landed in me Chloe. Exquisite and beautiful and so raw too. So profoundly grateful for you and your offerings ♥️.
I chose to read this whilst nursing a cup of sticky honey chai. I saw the email in my inbox earlier, but it seemed appropriate to wait until now, when I knew I could clasp my favourite mug between my hands and be warmed by your words and the chai in a singular moment.
It's a strange thing reading the words of others, sometimes. I haven't been here all that long but I feel as though with each post I know you more, like a story unfolding, even though this is a true story and an ongoing one, and through this post in particular there's such a raft of honesty and feeling. Thank you, for being so open and writing so beautifully and with such flow.
There's no laser eyes here, ever. Just someone who is glad to have made your acquaintance, and now indirectly also David's. A wonderful pic of David, too, as well as the "default position" of you and your friend.
May Norman have a wonderful soft-release, and you and David a wonderful week. As always, I look forward to your next post.
And as I said a while ago (I think), should Australia end up being a place to consider your own soft-release to realms new, I will gladly offer any thoughts on Melbourne that I can.
You have described that fear of losing a partner so incredibly. My husband and I are the same age, but I intend to live to 104, and doesn't think he'll make it. The idea of a world without him is, however, completely unacceptable and unbearable.
Incredibly bright, moving, real, optimistic piece of writing. The world needs your voice, your take on things. Long may it continue. Best Regards, Phoeagdor.
I have been waiting for two days to have the appropriate time available to sit down and read this post. Yours are not ones I will read on the fly; I need to be sure I have time to sit and soak it all in, because in their simplicity and their honesty, they cause me to look life right in the face, and that requires my full attention.
"like Death, it needs our gaze, our attention and at least some of our acceptance, so that it, too, does not become some gnarled and threatening thing. Some unnecessary enemy." This is something I wished we all, me especially, practiced more. The tendency to ignore or suppress things that are difficult or uncomfortable does exactly what you've said here--turns them into something gnarled and threatening. An unnecessary enemy. I think we're so conditioned to avoid discomfort of any kind, to the extent that when the time comes for the unavoidable face-to-face confrontation, those things are so deformed and magnified that they are completely overwhelming. Whereas if we would simply offer our gaze, as you put it, our attention, that thing would never become so ugly and frightening in the first place. It's amazing the power that attention can have. Power for good, power for ill, depending on where and how we choose to bestow it.
I'm heading into one of those face-to-face confrontations this evening, with a relationship that has become quite gnarled and threatening. An absolutely unnecessary enemy. And my heart won't stop racing. I want to fix it, to tame it, to restore it to the loving thing it once was, but I'm not sure I'll be able to. I'm not sure the other party can see me as anything other than gnarled and threatening. I'm so glad I read your post before I went to this encounter. Perhaps this relationship (a sibling) will never quite be what I hope for, but this--this is what I strive for with all the people I love most: "I believe that the exchange was one of me recognising his beauty and being compelled to share what I saw, and he responding by trusting me enough to reveal some of the magic that lay within."
As always, thank you so much for sharing. And for what it's worth, I don't think you are "all talk" and I very much hope you will never give up writing here. There is nothing hypocritical about facing the most terrifying prospect you can imagine and feeling the need to bare some teeth. You are all of the beautiful things about being human.
To look life in the face
"Deeply loving anyone, or anything, comes with such enormous risk. And yet, we do it."
I love this---loved reading about your connection to your David-love! Warmed my heart, made me feel what real life is in all its wondrous intuitive connections---steady, steady on---beautuful stuff. Facing fears.
Your stories of life, death & birds fill me with joy somehow. Not the giddy stuff, which is cool too, but like I'm being open-arm welcomed into that great big circle of knowing that the best things are so often found in small moments, in endurances, in staying connected to each other. To be bonded, to feel understandings wordlessly, to just know; to choose to live wide awake moment by moment; to be a warrior at heart toward life & death; tending gently and wisely to living beings in need. Thank you, Chloe, you leave me full of joy...
Beautifully expressed, Chloe. I do like the idea of a pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood Death, but have been favoring Death as a View more recently: "And then it seemed to him as in his dream, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise." (Tolkien) That's nice, isn't it? 💜
Oh I love this one so much, especially knowing David and your best friend, warms my heart and makes it smile.. reading all this.
You write so so beautifully Chloe.. ❤️❤️❤️
As courageous as can be.
You are a wonder to behold.
I love you endlessly and always.
This was beautiful Chloe.
It is SOOOO cool that a group of sparrows is called a crew!
I think it’s great you named Norman (even if the rules prohibit it).
And I found the rest of your story - about David and your acknowledgment that you still struggle with the idea of death even though it is something you write about - a beautiful and honest insight into the nuanced and complex nature of death. You sharing that death it is still something you grapple with despite your knowledge of it, is one (of the many) reasons why you I hope you continue with your substack.
So beautiful as always 💕
I’m struggling to find the words layered and heartfelt enough to convey how listening to you and David’s story landed in me Chloe. Exquisite and beautiful and so raw too. So profoundly grateful for you and your offerings ♥️.
Dear Chloe,
I chose to read this whilst nursing a cup of sticky honey chai. I saw the email in my inbox earlier, but it seemed appropriate to wait until now, when I knew I could clasp my favourite mug between my hands and be warmed by your words and the chai in a singular moment.
It's a strange thing reading the words of others, sometimes. I haven't been here all that long but I feel as though with each post I know you more, like a story unfolding, even though this is a true story and an ongoing one, and through this post in particular there's such a raft of honesty and feeling. Thank you, for being so open and writing so beautifully and with such flow.
There's no laser eyes here, ever. Just someone who is glad to have made your acquaintance, and now indirectly also David's. A wonderful pic of David, too, as well as the "default position" of you and your friend.
May Norman have a wonderful soft-release, and you and David a wonderful week. As always, I look forward to your next post.
And as I said a while ago (I think), should Australia end up being a place to consider your own soft-release to realms new, I will gladly offer any thoughts on Melbourne that I can.
I love you so much, I could cry I love you so much. Oh wait, I do and I am. Thank you, thank you for being you. I love your brave heart.
I love your best friend too .. so much 🥹 and through that .. you ❤️
This is just so beautiful.
I just listened to this with my husband. You read so well. It was beautiful .
You have described that fear of losing a partner so incredibly. My husband and I are the same age, but I intend to live to 104, and doesn't think he'll make it. The idea of a world without him is, however, completely unacceptable and unbearable.
Incredibly bright, moving, real, optimistic piece of writing. The world needs your voice, your take on things. Long may it continue. Best Regards, Phoeagdor.
Wow. I really enjoyed this. And David in a midnight blue velvet suit gave me a nice smile that grew into a laugh 🙏🏼- you’re a fine writer Chloe
I have been waiting for two days to have the appropriate time available to sit down and read this post. Yours are not ones I will read on the fly; I need to be sure I have time to sit and soak it all in, because in their simplicity and their honesty, they cause me to look life right in the face, and that requires my full attention.
"like Death, it needs our gaze, our attention and at least some of our acceptance, so that it, too, does not become some gnarled and threatening thing. Some unnecessary enemy." This is something I wished we all, me especially, practiced more. The tendency to ignore or suppress things that are difficult or uncomfortable does exactly what you've said here--turns them into something gnarled and threatening. An unnecessary enemy. I think we're so conditioned to avoid discomfort of any kind, to the extent that when the time comes for the unavoidable face-to-face confrontation, those things are so deformed and magnified that they are completely overwhelming. Whereas if we would simply offer our gaze, as you put it, our attention, that thing would never become so ugly and frightening in the first place. It's amazing the power that attention can have. Power for good, power for ill, depending on where and how we choose to bestow it.
I'm heading into one of those face-to-face confrontations this evening, with a relationship that has become quite gnarled and threatening. An absolutely unnecessary enemy. And my heart won't stop racing. I want to fix it, to tame it, to restore it to the loving thing it once was, but I'm not sure I'll be able to. I'm not sure the other party can see me as anything other than gnarled and threatening. I'm so glad I read your post before I went to this encounter. Perhaps this relationship (a sibling) will never quite be what I hope for, but this--this is what I strive for with all the people I love most: "I believe that the exchange was one of me recognising his beauty and being compelled to share what I saw, and he responding by trusting me enough to reveal some of the magic that lay within."
As always, thank you so much for sharing. And for what it's worth, I don't think you are "all talk" and I very much hope you will never give up writing here. There is nothing hypocritical about facing the most terrifying prospect you can imagine and feeling the need to bare some teeth. You are all of the beautiful things about being human.