July 16, 2021

Dear Friends,

I dreamt recently that I was left in a parking lot at the bottom of a long, steep hill. A friend had promised to take me back to the school at the top of the hill after our meeting, but she had to go elsewhere, and everyone else had left by the time she told me. I started walking, out of the parking lot, and turning left up the hill. In all, I walked for months to get to the top.

I am walking uphill with a heavy notebook in my arms and a heavy pack on my back. There are “way-stations” along the path, places where people rest and leave things that have become too heavy for their journey for others to use: books, snacks, scissors, tape, bottles of water. There is art hung in the way-stations and stairs to the top of each one that lead to the next part of the trail. The notebook I am carrying is so heavy, and so awkward to carry in my arms. At one of the way-stations, I encounter a man who has obviously been traveling this path for a long time. He is young and slightly wild, his hair long and knotted. He takes one look at me and says, you either need to leave that notebook here, or I can tape it to your torso so your arms and hands will be free.

I wasn’t ready to let the notebook go, so he taped it securely to me, and together we continued on the path. I realize after a few more way-stations how incredibly tired carrying all this weight is making me and we find a pair of scissors; he cuts the notebook off of me. I take out Chapter One and leave the rest behind, but as I am exiting the way-station, chapter one slips from my grasp into a deep chasm. I really don’t know why I was carrying it in the first place - I think it was just a security blanket, something to keep me safe. I look at where it landed for a long time and then move on, freed up from the weight, the heaviness, the constant monitoring of my grip on it.

I felt so happy and free for the next part of the walk, and then my alarm rang. I looked around my bedroom and realized how much I am carrying, internally and externally. I am letting it go. And I am thanking that friend for leaving me to walk up that hill because that’s where the learning was.

What are you carrying?

CLASSES AND EVENTS

There are two spots left! If you want to write, I invite you to my next virtual writing retreat for women next week (July 22-25). It is an investment into your own writing, whether you are a beginning writer or an experienced one. Together, we will build a community of writers that will continue long after our retreat is done. I promise you support, witness, deep questions, and fun. I would love to welcome you to this circle. For all levels of writers.

Coming soon! Project 137 is back for 2021! Starting on August 16, this fun project will provide thought-provoking prompts for 137 days, ending just on the cusp of the New Year (Dec 31). More info will be coming in the next Orange Desk letter!

Would you like to receive free writing prompts by text every Monday - Friday morning in 2021? If so, text “Writing Prompts” to me at 828-248-7513. You can stop anytime by typing “Stop” to the same number.

LINKS TO LINGER OVER

(please note: I don’t ever use affiliate links)

• Our experience of life is wholly rooted in the impact of colonialism. Time is a colonial construct. “Decolonization requires us to unpack the consequences of colonialism. What are its living legacies?” “By the beginning of the nineteenth century, British society had largely correlated the notions of ‘civilization’ and ‘true religion’ with the profitable use of time. Their specific experience of time was a cultural construct, deeply embedded within their industrial-capitalist and Christian society. They used their clocks as a tool to dehumanize Indigenous people. In the British colonies, the portrayal of Indigenous societies as being ‘time-less,’ or culturally lacking regularity, order and uniformity, came to operate as a means of constructing an inferior, ‘irregular other.’”
• ​Stay cool with these plant-based recipes.
• ​My whole life has been a lie.
• I like to eat absolutely everything out of these bowls. With a spoon if at all possible.
• I dress all my salads just with balsamic vinegar since I don’t eat oil. No oil needed! My favorites are white pear, pomegranate, and fresh basil balsamic vinegars from California Balsamic.
• Someone told me that the link to the cold noodle recipe I mentioned last week was behind a paywall, so I wanted to make that available to you. I have it in PDF form - if you’d like it, just let me know by responding to this email with your request and I’ll send it to you! Yes, there is probably an easier way, but I’m old and unimaginative and sweating in the heat of July. Smile.

I’ll see you next Friday from my Orange Desk. Eat more plants!

With love,

Patti

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