A great read. I have also been thinking about underworlds, having recently written an essay on the book H is for Hawk - perhaps you've heard of it - which chronicles such a journey, arising from bereavement and grief. We each have an underworld within us into which we must descend at certain times in our lives, and hope we can come back as more than what we were before. It does seem to be a place of profound transformation, as you write.
Thank you, Gabriela. You have expressed the Dark Winter from which I am emerging after a decade so beautifully and poetically. I adore Winter, the time for contraction, contemplation, and the rich darkness where earth and we humans prepare for renewal and rebirth. I will be 80 years in late August, and I did not recognize that I was in a Winter Dream for ten years. I functioned, even published a book I would not consider writing today, and am haunted by a new book I cannot seem to write. A character named Julia calls to me, and she is what my soul life seeks for me to be. Yet, I am emerging and writing a paragraph or an idea for a chapter in small, tentative actions. Perhaps I am not fully emerged from the ten years of The Winter Dream, or I am daunted that I have fewer years ahead than behind me.
This was an exquisite essay. Thank you again. ~ Lee Anne
A great read. I have also been thinking about underworlds, having recently written an essay on the book H is for Hawk - perhaps you've heard of it - which chronicles such a journey, arising from bereavement and grief. We each have an underworld within us into which we must descend at certain times in our lives, and hope we can come back as more than what we were before. It does seem to be a place of profound transformation, as you write.
Thank you, Gabriela. You have expressed the Dark Winter from which I am emerging after a decade so beautifully and poetically. I adore Winter, the time for contraction, contemplation, and the rich darkness where earth and we humans prepare for renewal and rebirth. I will be 80 years in late August, and I did not recognize that I was in a Winter Dream for ten years. I functioned, even published a book I would not consider writing today, and am haunted by a new book I cannot seem to write. A character named Julia calls to me, and she is what my soul life seeks for me to be. Yet, I am emerging and writing a paragraph or an idea for a chapter in small, tentative actions. Perhaps I am not fully emerged from the ten years of The Winter Dream, or I am daunted that I have fewer years ahead than behind me.
This was an exquisite essay. Thank you again. ~ Lee Anne