Jonathan, this was a delicious continuation! Thank you so much feeding us more of this wonderful story. Such lovely characters and unfoldings, the pirate, the story teller and now the cyclist. I dare not ask for a third, but I do wonder if these muses will muse you in that direction. A deep bow of appreciation.
“I just want to write stories. I want to write such beautiful stories that people feel alive when they read them, I want to write stories that strip the world of all this,” I did the spiralling gesture that seemed to take in everything that ever was, “and I want my stories to set off tiny waves of love that wash away all the pain and all the cruelty and all the stupidity and leave nothing but beating hearts and yearning attentions and lovers riding on bicycles right into each others arms,” I was getting louder as I got caught up in my own dreams, “I want to write stories where people actually pay attention to each other just because paying attention is the right thing to do, I want to write stories that unleash curiosity and friendship where each and every one of us is respected for just being ourselves what ever that might be, I want to write stories where we do the things our hearts tell us instead of the things we are forced to do, I want to write stories of trust and dignity and curiosity and meaning where everyone can bare their soul without fear of consequence and we all value each other just because we exist, I want to write stories that teeter right on the edge of a mystical abyss and then I want to leap into those stories and float about in a sea of love, that’s what the fuck I want to do!”
I reckon deep down this is the battle cry of every writer in some way, Síodhna, don't you think? I reckon I'm just letting the cat out of the bag ;) He he
Glorious Jonathan. The movement from “I said nothing, feeling suddenly exposed and unveiled, my supposed cultivated opinions revealed as the anxious coping mechanisms they really were, my own emperors clothes getting the pointed finger” and then feeling the layers shedding, the readiness to reveal more and more and more of the truth of “identity” and then you expand it further, just when I think it’s not possible, to include all those people (all “this” with your rabbit ears) and see their own angelic innocence and yearning. Wow. I’m stunned silent.
Ditto to so much of what all these people said, especially Kimberly. This is such rich and powerful stuff. You have listed all the kinds of things you want to write about so I think you are readying the launch pad....
Thanks so much Kimberly. I'm so very grateful for your incisive eye in reading. I'm talking about people paying attention in this piece but those are wasted words on you because you truly do pay real attention to the what I'm trying to say in my writing and I'm just so grateful for that. Thanks friend :)
BTW, serendipity strikes again because Wes is the other commenter in this mini thread and he's the guy I mentioned in our conversation :) An excellent poet and person I'd say.
Well, you gone done it, Jonathan. I'm a puddle of tears... This is magnificent and beautiful and timely. How do you get into my mind, curate exactly what it needs to hear, and then whip it into a story unlike any other? Thank you.
Ok so that’s the most wonderful reply. There are so many reasons to write, and for me, buried amongst them is the hope that somehow my writing will just gently inspire someone to rethink, or reconsider something, or see the world with fresh eyes, or edge closer to their “true selves” and feel more at ease with the world. There’s a somewhat deluded motivation to make the world less harsh, more what it might be, through my writing. It’s a fools errand I know but I’m a fool do it suits me perfectly :) So I especially love your saying that Troy.
The violinists on the titanic chose beauty and kindness as their final actions. They weren’t deluded. They weren’t fools. They were good men who knew every moment mattered.
I love how you create this graceful dance between inner dialogue and… inner dialogue taken to another level.
And such smooth, almost imperceptible transition between different times travelling down memory lane…
“igniting long-forgotten coals that had laid smouldering within me.”
And this ~”…he could hear the forest breathing and his heart beating to the melody of birdsong....” simply beautiful
“How can anyone plan their way through all the knotty unpredictable entanglements of this life?” ~ indeed! A profound and glorious question on a par with Mary Oliver’s famous ‘What are you going to do…”
And another one: “Isn’t it time for you honour this fleeting life and also do what you need to do, no?”
This sounds like a worthwhile mission in life: “and I want my stories to set off tiny waves of love that wash away all the pain and all the cruelty and all the stupidity and leave nothing but beating hearts and yearning attentions and lovers riding on bicycles right into each others arms,”
I just could quote every other sentence here because they are all pulling me into the story, the kind of story that is worthwhile reading.
“Now that’s something, that’s really something to want.” ~ I’m delighted the pirate king agrees with me on this 😅
Thanks so much Veronika, I'm so genuinely glad you enjoyed this piece.
I was thinking, if you don't mind, with our previous conversation about identity and experience (on your excellent post Growing a human Life) in mind, that I would suggest a piece I think you might enjoy. If you get a chance to read this one I'd be interested in your thoughts :)
"And in every school he came to he brought the calm forest silence with him and let it settle all around so the children themselves would quieten as they also took deep forest breathes and listened earnestly to his words. And they would look into his face and smile when he smiled and laugh when he laughed..."
Jonathan, this... How I wish for undivided attention from anyone/everyone in these days of 10 second-quick-fixes. How I wish it for us all... It seems it is fast becoming work one needs a degree in to ever find a result, so hard it is to gain or warrant that aura of earnest, interested listening... does anyone have more than "a spoonful of time" to give? I'm sure they do if only they'd pay attention.
"How beautiful it is, this fleeting life, if we just let it be so" Amen to that my friend, if only...
I have the same feeling, and I love those people who have a kind of slow motion aura in the world, an inner calmness despite living in a perpetual firework display. At least a table spoon instead of a teaspoon eh? Thanks Susie :)
Jonathan , I am so glad you continued this story. “Teetering on the edge of a mystical abyss …” (A language E.T. Allen is very fluent in). I’m fairly certain you have already taken the dare and took the leap. Where else could these stunning thoughts come from. Each of these quotes and more, need to be viewed from different angles like a sculpture in a museum.
“…a spoonful of time”
“…logging truck extracting forest flesh…”
“What would this world be if the things we lean toward, like a flower toward the sun, were not hidden away but said out loud?”
“those who also dared to feel the vertigo, and I let the feeling rise within me that I might dare to speak truly from the heart and shed this habitual identity and float away upon the sea.”
“…he could hear the forest breathing and his heart beating to the melody of birdsong.”
“How beautiful it is, this fleeting life, if we just let it be so.”
Yes, if we could only come to the realization , that is exactly what we are doing, “falling in love” over and over and over again. All I can say is , while you were down there
“…mining for a heart of gold” (Neil Young) , surely there must be enough for a part 3.
Thanks so much for the nudge Lor, I wouldn't have continued it without you and your magical suggestions. I love too that you've quoted from the pirate in the forest bit. I really like that small really poetical section too.
Part three eh? Are you and Julia in cahoots, some sneaky plan to get a whole novel outta me! 🤣 Ha aha ha I see you! I gotta take the boy into the forest first. Tere's been a big snowfall in the during the night and he's planning on making snowangles through the forest.
Just the stars aligning. I played yesterday in 3 ft of cold dry powder in the mountains. First ski of the season. Winter is my favorite time of year, my sweet spot , when my heart sings the loudest. Climbing on skies , one foot in front of the other, no human conversation needed, the silence and beauty of a snow covered world. Destination, glades of ancient Birch trees , a perfect wintry white untracked line . My winter name, ‘dances with trees’. Sorry, got carried away, it’s morning, just remembering the day. Ranger is unable to join, too deep, but he gets equal time on the trail. I’ve never seen a dog happier , bounding and rolling through the snow. And yes, perfecting the art of making snow angels. Sadly I will not be able to wear my eye patch in the woods.
Get a photo of Benny’s snow angels, Ranger would love to see one.
I tried man, oh I tried, that damn dog is camera shy I tell ya! I'll get him though, its a mission, hold on...
I wish I was skiing along there too, love skiing, wanted to be what we used to call a Ski Bum, just wanted to spend all my time finding more out of the way mountains and discovering more dangerous slopes. When I think of the things I've done it's lucky I'm still alive to be honest. The only time I've ever knocked myself properly out was skiing. I remember coming round and having no idea who I was or where I was but I do remember being really, really happy though, like whahoooo what is this awareness :)
Ski Bums, that was back in the day when we didn’t wear helmets. You are a lucky one. A number of years ago when my ski buddy pulled a helmet out of his car as we were putting our backpacks on and taking skis out, I looked at it with disdain; awe, we have to start wearing one of those? With all the clunks to my helmet as an occasional branch hits my head , I am happy to be wearing one. P.S. Ranger is challenging Benny to a snow angel contest. Winner gets extra pets, if there is such a thing as more than they get now.
Yep, seems like we're skiing the same piste here, Lor :) I was almost insulted at the idea of a helmet, now I'm amazed that anyone wouldn't wear one. The skis themselves too, what an amazing evolution. Remember those long, long, stiff, thin skis? My kids hopped on the new design and were up and away in about 10 minutes! Not that we go often anymore. Used to be a cheap(ish) thing to do in the countries I've lived in. Now it's prohibitively expensive for the likes of me, so, once in a blue moon there's a place 2 hours away, otherwise, it's all memories for me.
Benny say's yes the the snow angel challenge, although any more pets and I'll have to officially change my status to dog slave!
Probably just as expensive as bringing a family to the mtn for the day in Vermont. The price of ski, boots, and polls is crazy. Luckily most of my skiing is away from the resorts accessed by climbing skins.
Ok, off to the woods this Sunday morning , round one; Ranger has new powder fluff and he is already dipping a paw in ink , drawing on the kitchen floor what will be his first snow angel for competition…
Now that's something, my friend.
What could I possibly say in response to this outpour of love?
THANK YOU for taking the leap and dragging me down with you. Lightly we gain height and soar.
Lightly we gain height and soar - yes, we hidden angels, wings open, leap, my friend, leap ❤️
Jonathan, this was a delicious continuation! Thank you so much feeding us more of this wonderful story. Such lovely characters and unfoldings, the pirate, the story teller and now the cyclist. I dare not ask for a third, but I do wonder if these muses will muse you in that direction. A deep bow of appreciation.
And a bow of gratitude back to you Julia, so glad you liked this :) A third...if you keep asking I might end up writing a whole novel 🤣
Yes!…that’s my secret agenda :)
You should
I will
Oh my Jonathan, look what you've done
“I just want to write stories. I want to write such beautiful stories that people feel alive when they read them, I want to write stories that strip the world of all this,” I did the spiralling gesture that seemed to take in everything that ever was, “and I want my stories to set off tiny waves of love that wash away all the pain and all the cruelty and all the stupidity and leave nothing but beating hearts and yearning attentions and lovers riding on bicycles right into each others arms,” I was getting louder as I got caught up in my own dreams, “I want to write stories where people actually pay attention to each other just because paying attention is the right thing to do, I want to write stories that unleash curiosity and friendship where each and every one of us is respected for just being ourselves what ever that might be, I want to write stories where we do the things our hearts tell us instead of the things we are forced to do, I want to write stories of trust and dignity and curiosity and meaning where everyone can bare their soul without fear of consequence and we all value each other just because we exist, I want to write stories that teeter right on the edge of a mystical abyss and then I want to leap into those stories and float about in a sea of love, that’s what the fuck I want to do!”
⚡⚡⚡⚡
I reckon deep down this is the battle cry of every writer in some way, Síodhna, don't you think? I reckon I'm just letting the cat out of the bag ;) He he
So eloquently put. This is the time for writers. It might just change something, and everything.
Glorious Jonathan. The movement from “I said nothing, feeling suddenly exposed and unveiled, my supposed cultivated opinions revealed as the anxious coping mechanisms they really were, my own emperors clothes getting the pointed finger” and then feeling the layers shedding, the readiness to reveal more and more and more of the truth of “identity” and then you expand it further, just when I think it’s not possible, to include all those people (all “this” with your rabbit ears) and see their own angelic innocence and yearning. Wow. I’m stunned silent.
Ditto to so much of what all these people said, especially Kimberly. This is such rich and powerful stuff. You have listed all the kinds of things you want to write about so I think you are readying the launch pad....
3...2...1...
Thanks your for your kind words Wes, your encouragement is highly valued pal :)
Thanks so much Kimberly. I'm so very grateful for your incisive eye in reading. I'm talking about people paying attention in this piece but those are wasted words on you because you truly do pay real attention to the what I'm trying to say in my writing and I'm just so grateful for that. Thanks friend :)
BTW, serendipity strikes again because Wes is the other commenter in this mini thread and he's the guy I mentioned in our conversation :) An excellent poet and person I'd say.
Well, you gone done it, Jonathan. I'm a puddle of tears... This is magnificent and beautiful and timely. How do you get into my mind, curate exactly what it needs to hear, and then whip it into a story unlike any other? Thank you.
Writing from the soul means you always say the right thing :)
Glad you liked it Troy, really. Thanks my friend.
More than liked, loved it. It has inspired me to write more. To be more fully me.
Ok so that’s the most wonderful reply. There are so many reasons to write, and for me, buried amongst them is the hope that somehow my writing will just gently inspire someone to rethink, or reconsider something, or see the world with fresh eyes, or edge closer to their “true selves” and feel more at ease with the world. There’s a somewhat deluded motivation to make the world less harsh, more what it might be, through my writing. It’s a fools errand I know but I’m a fool do it suits me perfectly :) So I especially love your saying that Troy.
The violinists on the titanic chose beauty and kindness as their final actions. They weren’t deluded. They weren’t fools. They were good men who knew every moment mattered.
No need to leap when I fly with The Crow. Thank you, Jonathan!
My pleasure, Paul. I really enjoyed writing this one for some reason.
(I see I'm slowly converting Substackers into Arsenal fans too ;) At last!! he he)
Wow! This is stunning writing!!
I love how you create this graceful dance between inner dialogue and… inner dialogue taken to another level.
And such smooth, almost imperceptible transition between different times travelling down memory lane…
“igniting long-forgotten coals that had laid smouldering within me.”
And this ~”…he could hear the forest breathing and his heart beating to the melody of birdsong....” simply beautiful
“How can anyone plan their way through all the knotty unpredictable entanglements of this life?” ~ indeed! A profound and glorious question on a par with Mary Oliver’s famous ‘What are you going to do…”
And another one: “Isn’t it time for you honour this fleeting life and also do what you need to do, no?”
This sounds like a worthwhile mission in life: “and I want my stories to set off tiny waves of love that wash away all the pain and all the cruelty and all the stupidity and leave nothing but beating hearts and yearning attentions and lovers riding on bicycles right into each others arms,”
I just could quote every other sentence here because they are all pulling me into the story, the kind of story that is worthwhile reading.
“Now that’s something, that’s really something to want.” ~ I’m delighted the pirate king agrees with me on this 😅
Thanks so much Veronika, I'm so genuinely glad you enjoyed this piece.
I was thinking, if you don't mind, with our previous conversation about identity and experience (on your excellent post Growing a human Life) in mind, that I would suggest a piece I think you might enjoy. If you get a chance to read this one I'd be interested in your thoughts :)
https://jonathanfostersthecrow.substack.com/p/a-murmuration-of-memories
absolutely! I love good writing, and yours is stunning. Will dive into it later xx
Thanks so much, that’s a lovely thing to hear 🙏🏼
"And in every school he came to he brought the calm forest silence with him and let it settle all around so the children themselves would quieten as they also took deep forest breathes and listened earnestly to his words. And they would look into his face and smile when he smiled and laugh when he laughed..."
Jonathan, this... How I wish for undivided attention from anyone/everyone in these days of 10 second-quick-fixes. How I wish it for us all... It seems it is fast becoming work one needs a degree in to ever find a result, so hard it is to gain or warrant that aura of earnest, interested listening... does anyone have more than "a spoonful of time" to give? I'm sure they do if only they'd pay attention.
"How beautiful it is, this fleeting life, if we just let it be so" Amen to that my friend, if only...
Beautiful, both!
I have the same feeling, and I love those people who have a kind of slow motion aura in the world, an inner calmness despite living in a perpetual firework display. At least a table spoon instead of a teaspoon eh? Thanks Susie :)
Jonathan , I am so glad you continued this story. “Teetering on the edge of a mystical abyss …” (A language E.T. Allen is very fluent in). I’m fairly certain you have already taken the dare and took the leap. Where else could these stunning thoughts come from. Each of these quotes and more, need to be viewed from different angles like a sculpture in a museum.
“…a spoonful of time”
“…logging truck extracting forest flesh…”
“What would this world be if the things we lean toward, like a flower toward the sun, were not hidden away but said out loud?”
“those who also dared to feel the vertigo, and I let the feeling rise within me that I might dare to speak truly from the heart and shed this habitual identity and float away upon the sea.”
“…he could hear the forest breathing and his heart beating to the melody of birdsong.”
“How beautiful it is, this fleeting life, if we just let it be so.”
Yes, if we could only come to the realization , that is exactly what we are doing, “falling in love” over and over and over again. All I can say is , while you were down there
“…mining for a heart of gold” (Neil Young) , surely there must be enough for a part 3.
And, I need black eye patch …
Thanks so much for the nudge Lor, I wouldn't have continued it without you and your magical suggestions. I love too that you've quoted from the pirate in the forest bit. I really like that small really poetical section too.
Part three eh? Are you and Julia in cahoots, some sneaky plan to get a whole novel outta me! 🤣 Ha aha ha I see you! I gotta take the boy into the forest first. Tere's been a big snowfall in the during the night and he's planning on making snowangles through the forest.
...and a skull and crossbones to fly :)
Nope, never ‘met’ Julia.
Just the stars aligning. I played yesterday in 3 ft of cold dry powder in the mountains. First ski of the season. Winter is my favorite time of year, my sweet spot , when my heart sings the loudest. Climbing on skies , one foot in front of the other, no human conversation needed, the silence and beauty of a snow covered world. Destination, glades of ancient Birch trees , a perfect wintry white untracked line . My winter name, ‘dances with trees’. Sorry, got carried away, it’s morning, just remembering the day. Ranger is unable to join, too deep, but he gets equal time on the trail. I’ve never seen a dog happier , bounding and rolling through the snow. And yes, perfecting the art of making snow angels. Sadly I will not be able to wear my eye patch in the woods.
Get a photo of Benny’s snow angels, Ranger would love to see one.
I tried man, oh I tried, that damn dog is camera shy I tell ya! I'll get him though, its a mission, hold on...
I wish I was skiing along there too, love skiing, wanted to be what we used to call a Ski Bum, just wanted to spend all my time finding more out of the way mountains and discovering more dangerous slopes. When I think of the things I've done it's lucky I'm still alive to be honest. The only time I've ever knocked myself properly out was skiing. I remember coming round and having no idea who I was or where I was but I do remember being really, really happy though, like whahoooo what is this awareness :)
Ski Bums, that was back in the day when we didn’t wear helmets. You are a lucky one. A number of years ago when my ski buddy pulled a helmet out of his car as we were putting our backpacks on and taking skis out, I looked at it with disdain; awe, we have to start wearing one of those? With all the clunks to my helmet as an occasional branch hits my head , I am happy to be wearing one. P.S. Ranger is challenging Benny to a snow angel contest. Winner gets extra pets, if there is such a thing as more than they get now.
Yep, seems like we're skiing the same piste here, Lor :) I was almost insulted at the idea of a helmet, now I'm amazed that anyone wouldn't wear one. The skis themselves too, what an amazing evolution. Remember those long, long, stiff, thin skis? My kids hopped on the new design and were up and away in about 10 minutes! Not that we go often anymore. Used to be a cheap(ish) thing to do in the countries I've lived in. Now it's prohibitively expensive for the likes of me, so, once in a blue moon there's a place 2 hours away, otherwise, it's all memories for me.
Benny say's yes the the snow angel challenge, although any more pets and I'll have to officially change my status to dog slave!
Probably just as expensive as bringing a family to the mtn for the day in Vermont. The price of ski, boots, and polls is crazy. Luckily most of my skiing is away from the resorts accessed by climbing skins.
Ok, off to the woods this Sunday morning , round one; Ranger has new powder fluff and he is already dipping a paw in ink , drawing on the kitchen floor what will be his first snow angel for competition…
Beautiful Jonathan! Deserves multiple readings.
Thanks so much Ann, I did really like this one too, if that's not strange to say :)
Not at all!
What a privilege it is
To bear witness to a dream
And in the very act
Become a part of it
A dream that speaks with your tongue
Coincidence?
Teetering on the edge of a mystical abyss
What fun!
Thanks Eric
You write beautiful stories. This is a gem.
Thanks so much, Patris, that's wonderful to hear .) And a pleasure to see you hanging here too 🙏🏽
Just what I needed, especially now 🌻
Then I'm very happy to deliver such a timely post, rena :)